


Life Among the Distant Stars

by shadowhuntingjedi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Betrayal, Brotherly Love, Childhood Trauma, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Sex, F/M, Flirting, Force Training, Humor, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren Being a Little Shit, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Manipulation, Moral Ambiguity, Plot Twists, Protective Kylo Ren, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rating May Change, Romance, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Snoke Being a Dick, Telepathic Flirting, Temper Tantrums
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 72,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowhuntingjedi/pseuds/shadowhuntingjedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tasked by the Resistance to steal valuable First Order secrets, a thief with secrets of her own may steal something far more precious.<br/>Set before and during the events of The Force Awakens.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As soon as he had climbed out of his X-wing, Poe Dameron knew that C-3PO had not been exaggerating. "You'll never find a place filled with more scum and villainy than Mos Eisley," the golden protocol droid had commented upon hearing Poe's destination. Well, Poe could literally smell the scum, and it didn't take long to spot the villainy.

A high pitched and anxious whistle sounding from behind Poe let him know that his little companion felt the same way. "Don't worry BB-8," he said. "We shouldn't be here for too long." Another whistle. "No, I won't let the Jawas take you, now let's go." He could've sworn that he'd seen the droid shake its head before rolling quickly after its master.

Poe exited the landing pad and found himself in the middle of a busy street. A multitude of sentient and non-sentient beings alike passed by, buying, selling, or pickpocketing the unfortunate. "Stay close, BB," Poe warned, before joining the crowd.

He kept his head low, only looking up to make sure that he was heading in the right direction. He knew that he had reached his destination when a drunk humanoid alien came stumbling out of a brick hovel before vomiting and promptly passing out in his own vomit.

"Well, it looks like we came to the right place," Poe said cheerfully before shirking around the snoring creature, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

The cantina was dimly lit, casting shadows in every corner. Smoke and dust hung heavily in the air, adding to the humidity. The place smelled no better than outside, in fact, it was even worse, if that was possible. Everyone talked in low voices that could hardly be heard over the tinny music that the band was playing.

"Oi!" came a shout from the bar at the center of the room. Immediately, all conversations and music ceased, and every head turned in Poe's direction.

_ Shit.  _ How was he going to talk himself out of this one? He began to mentally scramble for a response when the bartender continued. "We don't serve their kind here." _Oh._

Poe grimaced before looking down at his droid. "Sorry BB-8, you heard 'em. I'm gonna have to do this one on my own."

BB-8 gave an indignant _whir_ , not budging. Poe knelt down to the droid's height.

"Look, I don't like this either, but this is the only way." More beeps. "Fine, if you want to make yourself useful, go back to the plane. Make sure that no Jawas touch my baby."

BB-8 responded with a fearful string of beeps, clearly expressing his unease. Poe chuckled.

"Alright then, go wait outside and scout the area. Keep an eye out for any unfriendlies. Don't worry buddy, I'll be out soon." The droid was all too happy to comply.

Poe watched the droid roll out before turning back towards the bar. He ignored the wary glances that some of the patrons shot at him; if any of them recognized him, they didn't show it.

He slapped down enough credits for a shot of Corellian whiskey; while he was here, he might as well have a drink. He leaned casually against the bar, swirling the dark liquid around in the glass before gulping it down. His eyes immediately watered and he involuntarily cringed at the alcohol's strength.

"You look like you need another one," came a voice just over his shoulder. Poe turned to his right towards the familiar voice, then quickly faced forward again.

"I could drink this place dry if I wanted to," he replied, still staring ahead.

"I'd like to take you up on that someday," the woman chuckled, coming up next to him. "Two bottles of the strongest thing you've got, one for me and my friend here."

The bartender looked up from wiping a glass and glanced back and forth between Poe and his "friend" before shrugging and accepting the credits placed before him. "Coming right up," he said gruffly.

Nothing more was said until the drinks were served. "Hey, it's a bit crowded up here. Care to join me at my table?" Poe still hadn't looked at her, but he nodded in consent and followed her toward the back of the cantina. Of course, she had selected the booth in the darkest corner to sit in.

"So," she asked once they were seated, "to what or whom do I owe the pleasure of being graced by the presence of Poe Dameron, poster child of the Resistance? Did you know that you're also the poster child of the First Order's most wanted list and pain in the ass?"

"I figured as much. Are you here to sell me out? I've also heard that there's a hefty price on my head."

Amusement glittered in those blue eyes. "You know that I don't do the First Order's dirty work, and besides, we're not exactly on the best of terms. That happens when you've killed a few of their officers. You'd better not be wasting my time Dameron. There are plenty of potential clients out there who would gladly pay for my services. So, what does the General want this time?"

Poe reached into his jacket, pulled out a small data pad, and slid it across the table.

"This contains the location of one of our bases," he murmured. "You'll have to go there for the debriefing."

"Really? Is it that big of a secret?"

"It's just that important. The General will tell you things that can't just be stored in a data pad."

"Wow, am I that untrustworthy?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"That's debatable." He leaned back against the booth, drumming his fingers around his bottle. "So," he said, pausing to take a swig, "are you interested?"

"I wouldn't have agreed to this meeting if I wasn't. If you haven't been told already, I was on a contract here when Connix made contact." She sighed. "The things I'm willing to sacrifice for you lot."

"I see," said Poe, noting the rather expensive looking jewel attached to the choker around her neck. "I'll leave you to that-."

"Not so fast, flyboy," she said, cutting him off with a blaster aiming at his chest. "We're not done yet."

Poe could only freeze in shock at the sudden turn of events, though granted, he should have seen this coming. Perhaps the drink was getting to him. Reaching for his own gun would be foolish, so he went with the alternative: "What the hell?!"

"Don't take it too personally," she said, clipping the data pad to her utility belt with her free hand. "It's just that I don't trust you either. Now, get up."

By now, complete and utter silence had fallen; every head was turned in their direction.

Poe slowly stood, casually reaching down toward his thigh where his blaster was usually strapped, and felt nothing.

He quickly turned to now find two blasters pointing at him, and one was his.

"Professional thief, remember?" she asked, a malicious grin on her face. "Let's take a walk, shall we?"

"Can I at least finish my drink?" he asked. He then felt one gun against the back of his head, the other at his back.

"Sorry, sweetie. I need you somewhat sober. Now, move."

Poe began walking towards the entrance, hands slightly raised. Every pair of eyes was on them. "Bounty hunter business. Go back to your drinks." _Liar._ Most complied, but Poe did not miss the three men who slowly rose from their table. "Keep moving," she hissed into his ear.

They made their way out into the sunshine and busy streets, suddenly brought to a halt by an angry BB unit that was brandishing its blowtorch and taser-like appendage.

"BB-8, wait!" Poe shouted. "This isn't going to help either of us right now, buddy. Just stay close and we'll sort this out soon." He craned his neck slightly to address his captor. "He won't cause any trouble, I promise."

She snorted. "I know what the droid's capable of Dameron." And with that, the three plunged into the crowd, which seemed to instinctively part for them.

Poe forced himself to remain calm by thinking of all of the ways he could successfully escape. He was not about to let himself be captured by the First Order. He was so immersed in his own thoughts that he was startled when she suddenly asked: "What landing pad are you in?"

"What?" he asked dumbly. He heard an exasperated sigh. "Where is your landing pad? Don't make me ask again."

"Uh, 2187B-2."

"2187B-2. Alright, we're going to be taking a short cut and whatever you do, do not look behind you." This confused Poe even more. _What was going on?_

He could tell that they were moving at a faster and more urgent pace. They suddenly made a sharp right turn into an alley. "Keep moving."

They exited the alley and found themselves on another busy street. Poe recognized this street. Sure enough, when he looked across the road, he saw the landing pads. He considered bolting right then and there, but the gut feeling that had always kept him alive during battle advised against it. He could not deny the tiniest glimmer of hope that was blossoming in his chest.

They quickly crossed the street and entered the landing pad. Poe's plane had remained untouched, much to his relief. That relief was short lived, however, when he was suddenly grabbed by the collar of his jacket and shoved roughly against a wall.

"Listen to me carefully. There are three First Order agents here, and they're following us. They were in the cantina too. Someone must've known that you were coming and tipped them off. Sorry for the scare back there, but I had to get you out of there somehow. As fun as it would've been, that wouldn't have been the best place for a shootout. I had hoped that the bounty hunter façade would be convincing, but I guess I was wrong. Sorry, again."

"What-" Poe began, but he was interrupted by his blaster being shoved back into his hands.

"We don't have much time. _You_ don't have much time. They'll be here any minute, so you need to get out of here. Now." She began to turn away.

"Moira."

She froze at the sound of her name, then looked down at the hand that held her wrist. "Poe," she said. "Let me go. Please."

Poe didn't, not yet. "They must have seen you too." His voice had lowered significantly, and he gazed intently into her eyes, hoping that she saw the concern in his.

"I know," she said, "but don't worry. They won't be able to tell anyone soon."

"You're not."

"Yes, I am, and you aren't going to stop me. You are going to get your ass on that plane and go!"

She wrenched her wrist free and began to walk toward the entrance, grabbing a second gun from her hip.

Poe ran toward his plane and hopped in as BB-8 got himself situated. Before he closed the hatch of the cockpit, Poe turned toward the lone figure whose hair was like fire in the sunlight. His heart clenched. "Moira!" he called out.

She turned toward him. She was now wearing a mask that covered her mouth and nose and red tinted goggles that hid her eyes, but Poe knew that she was looking right at him.

"May the Force be with you."

He could practically sense her rolling her eyes. "I don't need it."

Poe smiled and pulled the hatch down. He wasted no time in lifting off and did not look behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello everyone! If you are reading this, thanks for sticking with me!  
> I am an avid reader, aspiring author, and Star Wars fanatic (The Force Awakens was AWESOME!). I am also a hesitant Reylo shipper-key word being hesitant. I am refraining from writing any Reylo fics because of, you know, the possibility of them being related. So until some sort of relationship is established, I'll be busy working on a story that's been formulating and constantly evolving in my mind for the past couple months.  
> This is a slow burn romance; our OC won't be immediately falling head over heels for the Crown Prince of Darkness, and vice versa. This may drift towards an M rating, but I don't think that it will actually go that far. Just be prepared for a bit of violence, some tension of the sensual kind, a dash of crude humor, a few touches of angst here and there, and a full serving of action and adventure! Mix these all together and you get what is hopefully good enough to digest!  
> Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own neither Star Wars (technically Disney) nor its characters except for my OCs.  
> Alright everyone, strap in and hold on to your butts, because this is going to be a wild ride! Feel free to review (be gentle) and I'll do my best to entertain you all! Enough chitchat, on to Chapter 2!

Tatooine- 3 hours earlier

The Hutts had long ago given up their control over Tatooine, but evidence of their rule was still present.

The ruins of Jabba the Hutt's palace stood out against the blue sky, casting a long and dismal shadow across the landscape before it.

The palace had been looted of its treasures over the past thirty years, but the building itself was still used for sinister purposes. It was said that the dungeons were still used to house the offenders of various crime lords and mob bosses, and fight clubs often met in the old rancor pit beneath the throne room.

That was where a young woman currently found herself, with her hands chained together above her head and being poked with a bone grabbed from the rancor skeleton nearby. Her captors had taken extra care to make her as uncomfortable as possible.

They were ugly brutes who obviously made up in strength for what they lacked in brains. "Oh, just wait till the boss gets here," taunted one of them, a wiry Twi'lekk with half of a lekku missing. "He's gonna teach you some manners!"

"Yeah, no one steals from Grimma!" exclaimed a Weequay with a smashed nose. Their prisoner scoffed. "Huh?" he asked. "Is something funny little girl?" He prodded her in the stomach with the bone again.

"Not really. It's just that I'll be the one to teach all of you some manners." Her captors laughed.

"You're threatening _us_?" the third one, a Devaronian, asked. "You aren't exactly in the position to be doing that. And just to prove that…"

He stepped forward and delivered a hard slap across his captive's face, the sound echoing around the pit, hiding the sound of the gate sliding open.

"Ayto, that is not how we treat women, now is it?"

Ayto and the other two captors whirled around to face the newcomer that was flanked by two armed guards, who were then ordered to stand outside of the pit. "Lock the gate," he ordered softly, and they complied.

The stranger stepped forward into the light, revealing a blue skinned sentient with fiery red eyes sporting short black dreadlocks and a brown leather trench coat. The three thugs parted enough so that the Chiss was now standing only inches away from the prisoner. He gave her a once over before flashing a blinding white toothed smile.

"So this is our little thief. It was quite foolish of you to come here, my dear. Did you really think that you would make it past my security? The trapdoor still tends to fool people, doesn't it?" He clucked his tongue almost sympathetically. "It's a shame too, that you would go through all of this trouble for a fake." He laughed at the confused expression that came over his captive's face.

"The crystal that you attempted to steal was a fake. This is the real one." With a devilish grin, Grimma reached into a pocket on the inside of his jacket, producing a small pouch, and dumped its contents into his hand. The woman's eyes widened when they beheld the tiny blue crystal between Grimma's fingers. A soft glow emanated from it, making it even more ethereal.

"It's called a kyber crystal," Grimma explained, gazing at the crystal as if in a trance. "It was obtained during the time of the Galactic Empire when the Imps were confiscating and destroying as many of these things as they could find. It's passed through many hands since then; I was lucky enough to find it. It's extremely valuable as an energy source, perhaps even more valuable than exonium. It can make one rich beyond imagination; anyone would do anything to get one, which reminds me…" Placing the crystal back into the pouch and pocketing it once more, Grimma stepped even closer to his prisoner. "Now tell me, who sent you?"

The woman bit her lip and said nothing. The Twi'lekk who had been standing respectfully off to the side suddenly scoffed. "She wouldn't shut up earlier, Boss. I could-," he began, taking a step forward when Grimma chuckled.

"No, no. It's alright, Viserin. I think that our guest is still shocked speechless, aren't you, my dear?" More silence, and then: "I'd thought that you would be much more intimidating, Grimma. I'm kind of disappointed. From your men's descriptions, I'd imagined that this would be a brutal affair, you know, one that included my screams, a beating, maybe a disembowelment." The woman turned her head toward her captors. "Liars," she accused.

The Chiss raised his eyebrows, and then chuckled. "And she speaks. Certainly not the words I expected, but this will make it all the better." He suddenly reached out and grabbed the woman by her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "I am going to give you one last chance to tell me who you are working for, or…," he suddenly held up a serrated knife "I will start by cutting out that tongue of yours. Your choice." He smiled as he saw her eyes go wide with fear.

Suddenly, the tense silence was interrupted by a high pitched beeping that echoed throughout the pit. Grimma frowned. "What is that?" he asked. "What is that noise?" He turned to look around the room, still keeping a hard grip on the woman, who then cleared her throat. His head snapped back towards her. "What?"

She tried to move her jaw to speak, but was prohibited by the hand currently encompassing her chin. Sighing in annoyance, Grimma relaxed his grip. "Do you know what this is?"

"That would be my special comlink that allows my clients to communicate with me during a contract. If you want to know who my client is, you might want to pick that up. It's on the belt."

Grimma turned toward one of Ayto. "Answer it."

Ayto lumbered over to where their captive's gear and weapons had been piled, and reached down to retrieve a small black circular object that was clipped to the utility belt. He clicked the button. "Who is this?" he growled into the comlink.

A feminine voice laced with static answered. "Who the hell is _this_? _Shadow Fox_ , are you there? I repeat! _Shadow Fox_ , do you copy?"

Grimma let go of the woman's chin and stuck the tip of his knife right underneath it. He held out his free hand. "Give it to me," he ordered. Ayto tossed it over.

"Let's make this quick. My name is Grimma Shek and I have your thief held captive right now, as she failed to get what she came for. She has refused to share with me the name of the one who tasked her with this mission, but I think that that situation has resolved itself. I want to let you know that you will never-."

"Look buddy, I have no idea who you are or really care for that matter. Just let me speak to her, and then you can do whatever you want to her after that, okay? Please."

Clearly confused and angry, Grimma silently shoved the com closer to his prisoner, who shot him a smug look before speaking. "What is it Kaydel?"

"Moira, we need you to come in."

Moira groaned and closed her eyes. "Are you kidding me? I'm working!"

An audible sigh was heard. "When will you be done?"

"In a few minutes. I'm working with amateurs here," Moira replied casually. "They made the mistake of locking themselves in a room with me. Stay on, will you?"

"Of course."

Moira looked up to meet the bewildered expression on Greema's face before asking: "So now, where were we? Oh, the part where I escape!" With that, she pushed up and kicked Grimma in the chest, sending him flying backwards.

She then wasted no time in making the final twist followed by a click that freed her wrists from the cuff, dropping the small and sharpened fragment of bone that she had managed to grab before she had been cuffed. Viserin had recovered from his shock first and came at Moira, who now easily blocked his punch and jabbed him right in the throat, dropping him.

She then spun to face the Weequay who came at her with the bone that he had been prodding her with. She ducked under his swing and leapt forward, smashing the rest of his nose in with a well-placed punch.

With a roar, Ayto practically lunged at her. Moira came forward to meet him, and promptly kneed him the abdomen first before knocking him out cold with an uppercut to the jaw when he involuntarily leaned over.

She then made a dash for her things, just as the two remaining guards outside opened the gate. Whirling around with her twin blasters in her hands, Moira never gave the guards a chance; they were down before they could even raise their weapons.

Calmly, Moira slid the guns back into her thigh holsters, which her captors had been gracious enough to leave on, strapped her utility belt back on after making sure everything was in place, and finally grabbing her tonfas and sliding them into the holsters strapped to her back. She was readjusting her goggles around her head when she heard a groan behind her. Ah, she had almost forgotten.

She turned around and walked towards the crumpled figure on the ground. Greema lay curled in on himself, struggling to regain breath after he had the wind knocked out of him.

"Hello, my dear, you have something that I need," she said, stooping down to reach inside his coat. Smiling, she pulled out the pouch. "King Prana will really appreciate this, thanks."

"Prana? He hired you?" Greema asked in disbelief in between gasps.

"Yep," Moira responded, "and now the Resistance is begging for me. I should start saying no."

"Wait, please, don't take it! I'll-I'll pay you double of what Prana promised you! Please!"

Moira paused, as if considering his offer. "I'm sorry, but I don't betray my clients, ever. Bad things happen. Trust me, I know that." She began to rise when Greema's hand launched out and latched onto her wrist. "Hey!" she began to protest, but was stopped by the terrified look in his eyes.

"If you are going to take it, then whatever you do, do not let the First Order find it, even if that means keeping it from Prana. Promise me this."

She stared at him as if he had grown another head. "I don't-," she began.

"You don't have to try to understand, just trust me," he wheezed. He then glanced down at her wrist. "You're one of them, aren't you?"

Moira quickly stood up, yanking her wrist free. "I was, but bad things happened," she said, her voice softening at the end. She then turned around and scooped her comlink that had fallen to the ground, and she began to walk toward the pit's exit. "Kaydell, are you still there?"

"Yes. Moira, we need you right away."

"Kaydell, I have a contract with the King Prana, I can't just-."

"Prana can wait a few extra days! This is paramount!"

Moira sighed. "Fine, where do I need to go?"

"Uh, actually, there's a pilot on his way to Tatooine right now. The General couldn't wait much longer."

"Is it who I think it is?" Her contact chuckled on the other end.

"You would be correct. He should be there within a few hours."

"Alright, let flyboy know that I'll meet him at Mos Eisley, specifically that cantina at the center of the city. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am. Hopefully we'll see each other soon. Connix out." And with that, the connection ended.

Moira looked down at the pouch she held in her hand. She hesitantly opened it up and dumped the crystal onto her palm. She stared at it for a few seconds. The thing seemed to have its own energy; she could almost feel it pulsing in her hand.

" _If you are going to take it, then whatever you do, do not let the First Order find it, even if that means keeping it from Prana. Promise me this."_

Moira shook her head and once again stared at the crystal. There was something about it, something almost familiar, but she didn't know why. It was almost as if she felt a pull towards it, though she couldn't explain that either. Besides, Greema's words had unusually jarred her. Perhaps it was the mention of the First Order, she didn't know, but if the First Order would want it...

Suddenly, she knew that giving this crystal to Prana was a bad idea, and it wasn't like it would be any safer with her, but...

"Oh _kriff_ it all," she muttered before cutting a small piece of wire from her belt and punching a hole through the top of the crystal. She then hooked the wire through the crystal, and looped the rest of the wire around her choker. She felt the crystal rest in the hollow of her neck, and it felt...right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So this was just a flashback of what happened before the events of the first chapter concerning our OC (Moira). This is just a way of establishing her character a little more; trust me, there will be plenty of more action in the chapters to come.  
> Update: I now have a tumblr account: fngrl-2187. On it, I will blog mostly about this fic (news/ideas). If you want to find out what Moira looks like, go there and check it out!


	3. Chapter 3

D'Qar was the last place Moira had expected the Resistance base to be located, but she guessed that that was the point. The planet was located near an asteroid field that was difficult to maneuver through, making the planet undesirable to approach.

Moira was no expert pilot, but she managed to guide her small ship, the _Blue Angel_ , through most of the field. She also ended up blasting a few of those pesky space rocks apart with her laser cannon, although this was mostly out of spite. This was not how she had pictured her week to go.

Her mission had gone off without a hitch, well, mostly. She had spent _days_ planning her every move ever since she had learned that Grimma Sek and his gang had made Jabba's Palace their temporary base of operations. She had spent hours watching their activities from a distance, taking stock of their resources and analyzing the blueprints that she had acquired of the seemingly impenetrable fortress.

Most of the gang members, including Grimma, had already left when she had made her move, so sneaking in had been easy enough. No one except the guard was hurt. The throne room had been turned into a storage area for cargo ready to be smuggled and for other precious artifacts, including the crystal. At the time, Moira had believed it to be just a valuable jewel that King Prana wanted to add to his collection. She hadn't bothered to ask any questions, except for the ones concerning the size of her payment.

She had expected a quick scavenger hunt for the stupid jewel, not the floor opening beneath her. That had been the first surprise. She hadn't been surprised when the pit became flooded with light to reveal the three gang members waiting for her.

They had quickly forced her to the ground and stripped her of her weapons and gear, then dragged her over to the wall where she was chained. One of them, the Devonarian named Ayto, had gone through her data pad and found the holopic of the crystal, which then prompted him to contact Grimma.

She could have easily fought back and escaped, but she hadn't wanted to alert anyone else in the fortress of her presence. She knew that she would eventually escape when she successfully picked the lock with the tiny bone she had grabbed when the guards had pushed her down.

Her plan hadn't really changed by the time Grimma had shown up, but she had been surprised by the revelation that the crystal she had almost stolen was a decoy. However, it had taken all of her self-control to not break out into a huge grin when Grimma had produced the real crystal. He had unintentionally made her job so much easier.

Of course, she could have done without Kaydell Connix's _impeccable_ timing. Ever since her first contract with the Resistance, she had received a special comlink that only the Resistance could contact her through; the signal was virtually untraceable.

Now, Moira knew that she could have refused to meet with Poe and continued with her contract, but Grimma's parting words had unsettled her. Maybe it was for the best that she abandoned her contract with Prana. It wasn't like she had gotten off of her part of the deal empty handed. Prana had grudgingly agreed to pay her half before she started, so Moira now had around 500 credits to her name.

However, she would be lying to herself if she said that she didn't feel guilty. If anything, she felt uneasy. Prana would not forgive being double-crossed, nor would he forget it.

Moira groaned, hitting her forehead against the consol. 'This had better be worth it,' she thought, before a light on the consol began to flash, accompanied by a chirping noise. She was being contacted. She reached over to flick the switch that began the transmission.

"Attention pilot and any existing crew. Your ship has entered a restricted zone and will be apprehended if you continue any farther. Identify yourselves so that we may take a proper course of action."

"This is _Shadow  Fox_ requesting permission to land. I am here on the direct orders of General Leia Organa. I repeat: this is _Shadow Fox_. Tell your fighters to stand down."

There were a few seconds of silence through the static, and then: "Identity and authorization confirmed. Permission to land granted."

"Thank you," Moira replied, eyeing the approaching starfighters warily. Suddenly, she heard a new, yet familiar voice break through the static.

"Hey Red, you're alive!"

Moira couldn't help but smile. "You sound surprised, Poe. Did you doubt me?"

"Not for one second! It's great to hear that you're ok, Moira! BB-8 was worried."

"Aw, so he _does_ care about me!"

She heard Poe laugh. "He's denying it right now, but I know that it's just bantha fodder."

Moira smirked. "The ball's just jealous, Poe. He'll never have what we have." She could practically hear the droid's screaming on the other end, and she was unable to contain her laughter anymore. It first came out as a giggle, then an unattractive snort, and finally a loud cackle.

The cockpits of both ships were resonating with laughter until Poe spoke up first. "Do you mind if we escort you to base? The descent into D'Qar's atmosphere can get a little bumpy."

"I wouldn't mind at all." And with that, Moira watched as the six X-wings broke formation to make a new one around her, three on either side of her. She began to prepare for descent.

* * *

 

No sooner had Moira stepped out of her ship than was Poe on her, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug and spinning her around in a circle. "I've been waiting to do that for a year," he murmured into her shoulder as she clung to him.

"I've missed you too, Poe," she whispered, her eyes stinging. She wished that they could have greeted in this manner on Tatooine, but that would have not been the smartest thing to do. Luckily, Poe had also understood this.

Before either one of them could say anything else, someone shouted. "Moira!"

Moira extricated herself from Poe and turned to face the beaming young woman striding towards her. "Jessika," she greeted, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hey, you," Jessika Pava said before the two woman embraced.

"So you're officially a member of Black Squadron now, huh?" Moira asked when they pulled away, noting the orange flight suit. "Congrats, I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, although I couldn't have done without your support. I finally proved the big boys wrong, just like you said I would."

"Aren't I always right?" Moira asked, chuckling. She didn't miss the snort from Poe, who she then proceeded to punch in the shoulder.

"Ouch, _hey_!"

"Oh, look at that! Poe's getting beat up by a girl!"

Poe immediately went red in the face, dropping the hand that was rubbing his shoulder. "I'm not getting beat up Wex," he grumbled. "You might, though, if you keep talking."

The stocky man approaching the trio grinned almost stupidly. "I'll make sure to watch my mouth then." He stopped in front of Moira and stuck out his hand. "Temmin Wexley, at your service ma'am," he said, "though a lot of people just call me Wex."

Moira took his hand. "Nice to meet you, Wex. I'm Moira." Wex's eyes widened.

"Wait, you're-."

"Wex, _shut up_."

"Poe, you can't be serious. Do you know who she is?"

"I am perfectly aware of who she is, Wex, and yet that does not define _who_ she is."

"But-."

"Wex." This time, it was Jessika who had spoken. "We'll talk about this later, okay?"

"You know too? Does the General-?"

"Yes, Temmin, I do know who she is, and Poe's right. Her origin does not define her. I understand that more than anyone else."

Every head turned in the direction of the voice.

General Leia Organa stood a few feet away, flanked by two men in uniform and a data pad-wielding Kaydell Connix, who smiled shyly at Moira. Wex went as white as a sheet to bright red in two seconds flat.

"General," he began, "I had no idea-."

Leia bowed her head. "It's alright. All of you are dismissed, including you, Poe. Moira, dear, come with me."

Moira inexplicably felt nervous, and she turned to look at Poe as the two other pilots left, Jessika giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. He smiled encouragingly.

"Don't worry," he said. "You'll be fine. We'll see each other later, okay?" She nodded, and he gave her another brief, but heartfelt hug. "Remember, you don't have to do it," he whispered suddenly into her ear, and she looked at him, startled.

"Do what?" she asked, but Poe only gave her a smirk.

"I wouldn't keep the General waiting if I were you," he said, before turning around and walking away.

"Poe?!" she yelled after him, but he only turned to give her a mock salute before continuing on. Moira felt a light hand on her shoulder, and she turned to face Leia, whose gaze was unreadable.

"Come," she said gently, leading Moira towards the entrance to the base. "We have much to discuss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yay, Leia! Don't worry, she will be present throughout most of the next chapter, and she is going to be awesome, at least, I hope so. What is Poe talking about? I'm sure that Moira will get tired of cryptic parting words. What is one of Moira's many secrets?  
> Keep reading, keep reviewing! Constructive criticism is welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

"I apologize for Wexley," said Leia as their little group entered what looked to be the entrance to a bunker. "He is…forthright. I fear that it'll be his mouth that gets him killed one of these days, not his reckless piloting." Moira did not exactly know how to respond to that, so she only nodded.

They descended a short flight of stone stairs and into controlled chaos. The first thing that Moria noticed about what she assumed to be the command center was that it was outdated. The technology looked at least thirty years old, as well as some of the people there too. Bulky machines _clicked_ and _whirred_ loudly, holoscreens flickered, and wires bunched together ran along the walls and floor.

Numerous Intelligence and Communications officers of all species sat in rows along the walls, staring intently at dim screens and speaking through headsets. Others milled about the room, relaying information by data pad or word of mouth. Surrounding a circular table at the center of the room were even more in uniform, looking down at something.

Everyone was speaking in low voices, much like the Mos Eisley cantina, highlighted by the louder argument taking place at the table. However, as soon as Leia came into view, everyone around the table stood at attention. One of them, a human male, stepped forward. "General," he began, "may I-."

"Major Brance, I can assure you that any concerns you may have will be addressed at a later time, but for now, would you mind clearing the room for us?" It was not meant to be a question.

"Of course, ma'am," Major Brance said, and reached down to press a button on the table. The lights above them began to flash slowly, and with that, everyone stopped what they were doing and left the room in a systematic fashion. No questions asked. It was eerie. Even the officers surrounding the table, including Major Brance, bowed their heads respectively and left, leaving Moira alone with the General, Kaydel, and the two men.

"That was creepy," Moira murmured, and Leia turned towards her.

It was then that Moira got to really look at her. The first time that she had met Leia fourteen years ago, the woman who had held her close while she cried was strong, confident, and most importantly, determined. Her hair was also always on point Six years ago, however, something had changed, something had happened. The woman who had met with Moira in secret on Hosnian Prime was different. She had looked at least ten years older, her hair was disheveled, the light in her eyes had grown dimmer. This was not the same woman Moira had met nearly eight years before.

As the years had passed, however, Leia changed even more. If anything, she became tougher. She was stronger and more determined than ever before. Her hair was back on point, she was dressed like a military leader, and she stood like one. She held her head high and exuded confidence. However, her eyes were still dim. She was tired, Moira could see it. She could see it in her eyes, the eyes of a woman who had seen too much. Moira could not help but wonder what her eyes looked like.

Her musings were cut short when Leia's voice brought her back to the present. "It's good to have you back, Moira," she said, smiling warmly.

Moira snorted. "Like I could stay away. I would like to comment on your timing, however. Do you know that you have the worst?"

Leia sighed. "Kaydel told me about your contract. I am sorry for dragging you away from that, but you know that we would not be calling you in unless it was absolutely necessary."

"I know, I know, which brings us to the point of this meeting. Why here, why so secretive?"

Leia looked at her with those penetrable brown eyes. "What we are about to task you with is much too important to be stored on a standard data pad." She looked over at Kaydel and nodded her head. Kaydell typed something into her data pad and then made a swiping gesture towards the table. Immediately, a blue holopic appeared. Moira felt her blood go cold as she stared at the First Order insignia hovering before her. "What is this?" she asked hoarsely.

"Information taken directly from one of the communication centers of the First Order," one of the men at Leia's right said. Moira noticed that he wore the rank of captain. "One of our spies managed to relay this back to us before he was…taken into custody." He did not need to elaborate.

"This information is a major breakthrough amidst many setbacks," Leia added. "Especially on a personal level." Moira looked at her questioningly.

Leia took a deep breath and turned to face her. "This transmission claims that there is a way to find my brother, Luke Skywalker."

It took Moira a moment to process what she had just heard before exclaiming: "Luke Skywalker? The Jedi? He's your brother?"

Leia smiled sadly. "Yes, he is my brother. My twin, actually. He…disappeared six years ago, and no one knew where he went. I have been searching for years, doing everything in my power to find him, but it wasn't enough. Luke had simply vanished. No one knows of his whereabouts, until now." She turned back towards the holo. Her eyes were glassy. "The information that our spy found claims that the First Order is also looking for Luke, and that they're ahead of us. Apparently, they have a map, one that could lead to Luke."

As Moira listened, she began to get a sinking feeling in her chest. She knew where this was going. "Where is this map?"

Kaydel swiped again, and the image changed to a few sheets of data and a small map. "According to this, the map had been stored in the archives of the Empire, and the First Order had somehow managed to find it."

"And where is this information currently?"

Leia hesitated now. "At the First Order's current base of operations: Ord Mantell." Moira closed her eyes. _Of course_.

"You want me to go in and steal the map, right?" She remembered Poe's parting words: _"You don't have to do it."_ Did she actually have a choice though? This was top-secret information, they would not just let her leave after learning what she just had.

Leia pressed her lips together and nodded. "Yes," she murmured. "I know that Ord Mantell is the last place you want to go, but-."

"It's been six years, General. I've had more than enough time to accept what happened there. What I'm concerned about is the fact that this basically is a suicide mission."

"No one else is remotely capable of accomplishing this, Moira. You are the only one that has a chance."

"You flatter me. Let's just say that I agree to do this. What would I be getting in return, given that I don't get caught first?"

Leia looked amused. "Enough credits to leave this job of yours behind forever and start a new life. I'll even throw in the offer of joining our ranks, if you would want that. You would certainly belong here."

Moira leaned against the table, gripping the edge so hard that her knuckles turned white. She had no interest in officially joining the Resistance, at least, not yet. But a new life…

She had tried starting a new life six years ago, but she had just ended up going back to doing the one thing that she was good at: stealing. However, with enough credits…

Leia must have seen the gears turning in Moira's head, because she began to smile. "And just think," she added. "If we are able to get the map, it could turn the tide of this war completely in our favor."

Moira looked around at the others. "Are you all certain of this? This could help bring down the First Order?" They all nodded.

Leia spoke up again. "Finding Luke would be a great service to the Republic, the galaxy, and to me," she said her voice growing soft at the end. "I miss him, Moira. I just want him back safe, if he's even still alive. Out of everyone on this base, you know how I feel."

Moira closed her eyes again. Yes, she did know how Leia felt, except that she had been feeling that way for fourteen years. Leia didn't deserve that. "I do," she said softly, "and that's why I'll do it." She then raised her head and her voice. "I'll do it."

* * *

 

"NO! No, no, no, no, NO!" The last no was punctuated by the sound of a wrench being thrown into the corner of the hangar.

Poe whirled around, causing Moira to take a step backward. His face was a mask of fury, and it frightened Moira. "You said yes, didn't you?" he shouted. Before Moira could even open her mouth to answer, he turned away, placing his hands against the plane he had been working on. "Of course you would say yes," he said. "Why did I even think for a second that you would say otherwise?

Moira did not know if he was speaking directly to her, so she chose to stay silent. What else could she say? "I told Leia not to make you do this. I knew that you would agree to it. I should have told you on Tatooine, I should of-damn it!" he shouted, slamming his palms down on the metal. He turned back towards her.

"Do you even realize how dangerous this is going to be? Ord Mantell is the First Order's current base of operation, which means that it is the most fortified. The place is practically crawling with troopers who will kill you on sight, there are cameras everywhere, and even worse, _he_ might be there!"

"I know, Poe. I've been studying the blueprints, and I think I have a plan. As for the last part, Admiral Statura said that he isn't due there for another five days."

Poe did not look satisfied by this information. "So when will you be leaving?"

Moira took a deep breath. "Tomorrow." She winced when Poe swore again. She had expected him to be than enthusiastic when she told him the news, but not this negative.

"Poe," she began, but he cut her off.

"You just don't think, do you, Moira? It's all about the money to your kind, isn't it? No concern for your or others' safety, just as long as you get paid."

At his words, any guilt that Moira had been feeling vanished. "Alright, asshole, you want to know why I chose to do this? I'm doing this for Leia, not for myself. She actually _has_ a chance at getting her brother back; I am not going to let her endure what I did for any longer, especially after everything she has done for me!" She was aware that she was shouting, but she didn't care. There was no one else there to hear. At her words, however, Poe's demeanor changed. He suddenly looked ashamed.

"I-I'm sorry. I should've realized, I-." He paused to take a deep breath. "I just can't lose you to them, Moira."

"You won't," she promised. "If I'm caught, I won't give them the satisfaction of taking me alive." She didn't have to elaborate.

Poe closed his eyes and with a groan, he stepped forward and took her into his arms. "Please, don't do this," he begged. "I'll do anything to get you to stay, just don't go," he murmured into her neck.

"Poe," Moira said, "look at me, please." He pulled away from her reluctantly and stared down at her. The pained expression in his eyes made her heart want to break.

"When I first met you, I thought that you were the most stuck-up and arrogant individual in the galaxy, so I hated your guts. Now, six years later, I've realized that I wasn't wrong."

Poe made a noise that sounded somewhere in between a snort and a noise of protest, when Moira cut him off.

"But, you are so much more than that. You have come to be one of the few people that I trust with my life in this entire galaxy…and my best friend. You helped pull me out of the darkness that I had been feeling, the emptiness. You saved me, Poe. You and Leia both."

Poe was shaking his head now, smiling ruefully. "Kriff," he said, "you're actually talking like you're not coming back."

"Poe," she began. Poe stepped forward and hugged her again.

"No, don't say anything else. I don't want to hear you speak those words until my funeral."

Moira released a laugh that sounded like a sob. "Are you sure that's what I would say?" She felt him rumble with laughter.

"You know what, maybe I don't wanna know what you'd say. Just, promise me that you'll come back. Just stay alive. Please."

"Even if they capture me? Even if they torture me? Even if they try to execute me?"

"Whatever it takes," Poe whispered. "If I know you well enough, I know that you'll be fine. You're a survivor, Moira, not to mention a badass. You'll make _them_ suffer, not the other way around." He snorted. "Hell, if they do get you, you'll make them want to let you go."

Moira shrugged. "Or kill me, there's that option. Either way, they'll be happy to see me go."

Poe laughed. "That's the spirit!" He released her and stepped back toward the plane. "Now go get your stuff and get out of here."

Moira smiled. "Yes sir."

* * *

 

Later that night, Moira sat on her bunk analyzing the blueprints for probably the hundredth time. Leia was gracious enough to give Moira her own quarters for the night, and Moira was grateful for that. Though small and snug, they allowed her to be alone. That was how she worked best, anyways.

Kaydel had transferred the blueprints and the specific location of the map to Moira's personal data pad, which she would use tomorrow. She just felt comfortable mapping out her mission from beginning to end, and she had finally come up with a plan. She now had everything that she needed; the Resistance was willing to supply her with anything else that she required.

She glanced back over at the pile of clothes in the corner that would serve as her disguise. _This had better work. It had to._ This was just like any other assignment Moira had undertaken, so why did she feel so nervous all of a sudden? She actually felt sick.

Shaking her head, she shut off her data pad and tossed it into the corner with the rest of her gear. With a sigh, she flopped back onto the mattress. She had a feeling that this was going to be a long, sleepless night.

* * *

 

Poe wasn't there to see her off the next morning, but Moira hadn't expected him to be. What was the point of saying goodbye when they'd be seeing each other later, right? Moira hated goodbyes anyways.

However, Leia was there; she was waiting for Moira at her ship. She smiled at her, and there was that look in her eyes again, the look that Moira just couldn't figure out.

"I guess that there isn't much more for me to say except 'thank you' and 'good luck.' However, there is something else though. If you can't get the map, get out of there as fast as you can. I care more about your safety."

"General," Moira said, shouldering the bag that held her disguise, "I thought we promised to be honest with each other."

Something flashed in the older woman's eyes, but it was too fast for Moira to catch.

"By the way," she added, "there is something that I truly want in return."

Leia raised her eyebrows. "Oh? And that is?"

"I need you to hold onto something for me, to keep it safe until I come back." _If I come back._ Moira reached her closed hand towards Leia's opened one, and dropped into it the kyber crystal that she had removed from her choker last night.

Leia frowned at first at it, and then her eyes widened as she gasped in shock. "Where did you get this?" she demanded.

"Uh, I stole it," Moira replied dumbly, taken aback by Leia's reaction.

"You stole it?" the General exclaimed. "From who?"

"That doesn't matter," Moira said hurriedly. "What matters is that the First Order can't get this. At all."

Leia nodded, that familiar look of determination setting on her face. "I understand. It shall be safe with me."

"If I don't come back," she began, but Leia cut her off.

"You will come back, Moira. I don't know when, but you will. I can feel it, I know it."

Moira furrowed her brow in confusion, but before she could ask the General what she meant, she heard a voice.

"Moira? Moira, wait!"

Moira turned, and to her surprise, saw Temmin Wexley striding towards her.

He finally reached her, panting. "Hey, I-I wanted to apologize fo-for yesterday. I h-had no right to judge you. I was blinded by my own ignorance and bias, and for that, I'm sorry."

Moira stared at him. "You're right. You had no right to judge me, but I understand why." She smiled. "Truce?" she asked, sticking out her hand.

Wex broke into a grin. "Yeah, thanks," he replied, taking her hand.

"Don't mention it. Did you rehearse that little speech?" Wex blushed.

"Well," Moira said, smiling, "I should be going."

Leia nodded. "Yes, there is no time to lose." She reached out toward Moira, and the two women embraced. Nodding once more at Wex, Moira turned to board her ship.

"Moira." She turned around to face Leia.

"May the Force be with you."

This time, Moira smiled and nodded her head.

* * *

 

As her ship left D'Qar's atmosphere, Moira once again felt the same anxiety from last night settle in her stomach. She had a bad feeling about this.


	5. Chapter 5

Once she had entered the necessary coordinates and went to light speed, Moira set the ship to autopilot. She had a while before she reached the Bright Jewel system in the Mid Rim and then Ord Mantell, so she decided to kill the time.

Getting up from the pilot's chair, Moira moved towards the back of the cockpit, grabbing her bag. She entered her sleeping quarters and dropped the bag on the floor. _I have another three hours to go_. With that in mind, she flopped down onto her bunk and closed her eyes, and the image of the blueprints was burned into her eyelids. _Just for an hour, and then I should look at those blueprints again._

* * *

 

A loud noise startled her awake from a dreamless sleep, causing her to hit her head against the low ceiling. Swearing, Moira rolled off the bunk and practically crawled back into the cockpit, groaning the entire way. "Blast it!" she yelled upon seeing her projected entry time into the Bright Jewel system: five minutes. "Kriffing hell, you laser brained idiot!"

She scrambled to her feet and dashed back to her quarters and literally pounced on her bag, nearly ripping off the zipper in her haste to get it open. She pulled out the baggy navy blue mechanic's uniform that she received yesterday upon request and slid it on easily overtop of her black leather bodysuit, tucking the pant legs comfortably into her boots. She quickly snapped on her utility belt, as it blended in nicely with her outfit. There were a few things that she couldn't hide in plain sight, but she had that part covered.

Her disguise was complete when she put on the bright orange vest that identified her as a First Order technician, as if the First Order insignia embroidered onto the right shoulder wasn't evidence enough.

She quickly tied her long red hair into a braid and re-entered the cockpit, checking her progress. _Right on schedule._ She sat back down and grabbed her neck scarf and goggles off of the console and quickly put them on, leaving the goggles on top of her head. She tugged her black leather gloves on and slid the heavier mechanic's gloves on overtop, just as she came out of light speed.

There it was, the old rock, the place that Moira thought that she would never have to see again. Ord Mantell was, at first glance, a beautiful planet with oceans and green and brown land masses, and welcoming too, if it weren't for the two Star Destroyers lazily orbiting it. _Home sweet home._

"Initiating cloaking device," Moira muttered to no one in particular, pressing the buttons that would hopefully hide her from the Destroyers' sensors. She didn't breathe until she had passed under them and prepared to enter the planet's atmosphere.

* * *

 

Ord Mantell's primary terrain consisted of mountain chains, and Moira had forgotten how difficult those made entries. She grit her teeth as she narrowly avoided scraping the bottom of her fighter against a peak and added this to the list of reasons why she detested this place.

Ord Mantell City was the planet's major city (so aptly named); consequently, that was where the First Order's base was. Moira easily blended in with all the traffic and followed the flow until she reached her pre-determined landing zone.

Finding the base did not prove to be a challenge; Moira knew these streets, having walked them so many times during seven years of her life. As she drew closer to the large durasteel building, Moira realized that she knew this building too well. _Of course they would convert it to **their** headquarters, at least, whatever was left of it. _ She felt foolish for not noticing this in the blueprints, but perhaps she hadn't _wanted_ to see it. Getting in would _definitely_ not be a problem now.

The tunnel was still there, though Moira wasn't surprised; it took a well-trained eye to notice the hidden door that led to it. It was dark in the tunnel, forcing Moira to use the night vision setting on her goggles and her own memory. When the sounds and smells of machinery began to fill the air, she knew that she was close. She found the ladder shortly after and climbed up. She prayed to all of the gods that the trapdoor was still unlocked; she didn't feel like laser cutting her way out of here.

She gently pushed up against the panel, and sighed with relief when it eased up. She shoved it out her way and pushed herself up out of the hole, gasping in clean air-right in the path of three Stormtroopers who jumped back in alarm. For a moment, her heart stopped in her chest before she plastered on an embarrassed smile. "Sorry, must've taken a wrong turn! My bad!"

One of the troopers made a disgusted noise behind his helmet. "Stupid ship-rat," he said, before moving around her, his two companions following close behind.

"Damn, who pissed in _your_ power supply?" Moira muttered before hauling herself completely out of the hole. She quickly slid the panel back into place and got to her feet. She couldn't help the satisfied smile that appeared on her face. She was in.

Moira should have felt worried about viewing the base's map when surrounded by First Order personnel, but if they were anything like the Imperials, then they would not be paying attention to some low-life mechanic. She just kept her head bowed over her data pad, with which she mapped her progress through the base. This was the normal behavior of a mechanic anyway.

She finally found the corridor that she needed, and the air vent in the wall. She knelt down before it, removed her laser cutter from her belt, and went to work. Those passing her never stopped to question her. To them, she was just doing her job.

Once she pulled the vent from the wall, she pulled the small tracker from her belt, shoved half of her body into the shaft, and stuck the tracker onto one of the walls. She began to push herself out of the shaft when she became aware of heavy footsteps that were fast approaching, but she paid no mind to it. It was probably just a small unit of Stormtroopers.

She had begun to weld the vent back into place when she got the feeling that someone was watching her. It felt as if there were a pair of eyes burning right into her back. The footsteps were louder now; they would be passing by soon. She kept staring ahead, concentrating on her work.

Then suddenly, the queerest sensation came over her. It started at the base of her skull, then quickly moved through her entire head. It felt as it something was pushing into her brain, yet pulling at the same time. It felt...cold and…dark. However, it was gone as quickly as it came, leaving Moira feeling disoriented. She turned her head to the left to see the backs of the two Stormtroopers that had passed her, and something else, something tall and dark. She didn't fail to notice that everyone else in the corridor had practically thrown themselves against the walls to avoid the trio.

Moira shook her head and quickly finished welding the vent back into place. She then got up and purposefully went in the opposite direction of those troopers, not wanting to have another encounter. She glanced back down at the data pad and knew where she needed to go next.

She ended up in a small storage room where she stripped herself of the uniform and gloves and tossed them into a corner. She opened her toolbox and pulled out her blasters and tonfas along with their respective holsters and a few other gadgets, which she hooked onto her belt. She then pulled up her scarf that also served as a mask and readjusted her goggles.

Removing a vent on the ceiling took no time at all, and then with a jump, Moira was in the air shaft. It was dim inside, so she once again required the aid of her goggles as she began to crawl her way along. She paused every so often to check the map to make sure that she was heading in the right direction. She was flexible, but she didn't want to try to turn around in this narrow space.

After crawling for what felt like hours, Moira knew that she was above the vault. She looked down through the vent, saw that her suspicions were correct, and proceeded to remove it. She grabbed the vent just as it was about to fall down and set it to the side before positioning herself above the hole. It didn't look that far of a drop.

Taking a deep breath, Moira swung herself down. She dangled in the air for a few seconds before dropping herself to the ground, letting her kneepads absorb the impact.

This had been the only way to get in here; one needed authorization to access the vault, something that Moira lacked. There were security holos in the vault, but they were dormant until someone took something from the vault-someone who was not authorized to take anything. Needless to say, Moira had less than a minute to retrieve the map and escape before armed guards burst in. _No pressure._

Fortunately, Moira had the exact location of the map in the vault, so that was where she headed. She paused before typing in the code that would produce the map, her fingers hovering over the keypad. _Less than one minute._

She exhaled slowly, and began to enter the code that had been given to her. At first, nothing happened, and Moira was afraid that she had made a mistake when suddenly there was a _click_ and then a long _hisssss._ One of the thousands of drawers in the vault slowly slid out in front of her, and there it was, a data chip that could be inserted into anything that would take it, just sitting there innocently on a slide. This was it. This was the map to Luke Skywalker.

Without any hesitation, Moira grabbed the chip and stashed it away. It was time to haul ass; they would all be coming now.

* * *

 

First Order HQ Intelligence Sector: Security Unit—

Captain Willas Mance hated his job. Well, perhaps 'hated' wasn't the right word, but Captain Mance would have felt better working elsewhere instead of security. He could not deny that it wasn't an honor serving the First Order, it was, but he wished that it was a little more exciting. There was nothing exciting about monitoring hours' worth of footage. Once in a while the holos picked up the random hook-ups in the mess hall after hours or the most recent meltdown of a certain Knight of Ren whenever he came to visit. That was about as far as entertainment went, and even the sight of two people fulfilling their carnal desires on the breakfast table became almost unbearable at times.

The base was just too secure-no one got in, and no one got out. There was nothing to really watch out for. Captain Mance sometimes just wished that something interesting would happen, something that kept him from falling asleep in his chair. Little did he know that he would be getting his wish, whether he liked it or not.

"Captain, sir," spoke up one of the young lads who monitored the vaults, "there is activity going on inside the vault. No one has recently been given access to it, and yet something has been opened inside."

Mance frowned. That was not supposed to happen. He swiftly approached the young officer, who was staring intently at his screen. "Have the security holos been activated yet?"

"They should be in a few seconds, sir." Sure enough, the footage from the holos inside the vault appeared on the screen.

"What in the blue blazes…?" Mance exclaimed. "What are they taking? What is in that slide?" The data that appeared on the screen answered his questions. He swore out loud, which was not something that he made a habit of doing.

The young man looked up at him, clearly confused. "Sir, what should we do?"

Mance nearly shook him. "Are you brainbolted? Inform the guards that there is an intruder! Now!" The boy scurried to do so. Mance stepped backward a few steps, trying desperately to stay calm. _The guards would handle this._ If not though, Mance realized, they could not keep this a secret. They would have no choice but to sound the alarm.

* * *

 

As soon as she heard the alarm, Moira knew that her time had run out. She had managed to crawl back into the ventilation shaft just as the doors to the vault slid open and the guards rushed in, but she could not revel in her victory for long. The alarm meant that they would be putting the building on lockdown, and that meant that no one could get in or out. She had to escape the way she had come, through the tunnel. Luckily, though, she had planned for this.

Lying flat on her stomach in the shaft, Moira pulled out her data pad and typed in another code. The map of the base appeared, but now there was a little green light blinking at one end of it. Somewhere in this base, a small tracker stuck to the wall of an airshaft was blinking, sending a signal right to her data pad. This was her destination, her escape route.

When she reached the vent, Moira rolled onto her back and quickly twisted herself around so that her feet were now facing the vent. She could see the red light flashing out in the corridor, and she heard the Stormtroopers moving around out there too. _Of course it's not going to be easy._

Moira took a few calming breaths. Those soldiers out there were ready for her, whether they knew that she was there or not. They were read for a fight, but so was she. Poe's words abidingly came back: _"Just, promise me that you'll come back."_

With that in mind, Moira braced her hands against the ceiling and began to swing herself back and forth the best she could in order to build momentum.

_On three. One. Two. Three!_

On three, Moira kicked out at the vent as hard as she could, knowing that it was already loose because of her adjustments. The vent flew across the corridor and against the wall with a loud _clang!_ and the two troopers who were rushing through stumbled to a halt, because following the vent out was a figure all in black, a figure whose description matched that of the intruder.

Moira rolled across the floor right into the path of the Stormtroopers. She had to stop this from becoming a bad habit. She popped up from the ground and slapped on another stupid grin. "Sorry about that! I was fixing a couple circuits earlier, and the thing wouldn't budge, so-."

"Enough, put your hands in the air!"

Moira frowned at the blasters that were pointed in her direction. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"We know that you broke into the vault, do not try to lie your way out of this. Now, put your hands in the air and come with us!"

Moira sighed. "Alright, you've caught me, I surrender." She began to slowly raise her hands up and up till they were past her shoulders. "But," she added, "I'm not gonna go quietly."

She reached back into her holsters that were strapped to her shoulders and in one fluid motion, pulled out her tonfas and flicked the switch that turned them into vibroweapons, complete with electrically charged tips. Before the troopers even knew what was happening, she was on them, and with a few flicks of her wrists, they were down.

At the sound fast-approaching footsteps behind her, Moira slid her weapons back into their holsters and grabbed two canisters from her belt just as several troopers rounded the corner.

"Hey!" one exclaimed, and Moira whirled around and rolled the smoke bombs in the troopers' direction. White smoke began to pour out of the ends, separating Moira and the Stormtroopers. She reached up and pressed another button on her goggles, and the setting switched to infrared vision, allowing her to see her adversaries through the smoke.

She grabbed her blasters and fired a few times before turning and sprinting away. She only had a few more turns to go until-.

Moira froze in her tracks, her heart having leapt to her throat. Her arms fell limply to her sides, her blasters hanging loosely from her fingers. A row of Stormtroopers from wall to wall stood before her, blasters at the ready, but that was not what really had made Moira stop.

A tall figure stood directly in front of the troopers, a standing out from the others in its black attire. The figure looked humanoid and male, but Moira could not tell because of the hood and mask obscuring their face.

As she beheld the dark and imposing figure that stood before her, Moira felt it again, the same pushing and pulling sensation in her head that she had felt earlier in the corridor, brief and utterly strange. She also felt the same coldness, the same darkness, and it terrified her. Moira was afraid.

It stared at her through the soulless black lenses of the mask, probably giving her a once-over, before she saw something appear in its hand, something cylindrical. Then, it spoke, its voice sounding deep and artificial through the mask's apparatus.

"You," was all it said, before a flash of red light.

Moira's eyes widened when the beam of fiery red light shot out of the cylinder, followed by two smaller ones on the sides of it. It looked like a cross guard sword, but swords weren't usually made out of lasers, and they certainly didn't crackle and spark like this.

The sound of it activating startled her out of her stupor, and so with a yelp she raised her blasters and began to fire, aiming one at the Stormtroopers and the other at the creature in black that began to slowly stalk towards her.

Much to her shock, the masked figure lazily lifted its sword and blocked her shots, ignoring the three soldiers who fell next to it. The Stormtroopers followed their leader slowly, letting themselves be shot at. They did nothing. Moira began to feel the desperation seeping through her veins, and she began to concentrate all of her fire on the figure, who just continued to deflect them.

Moira cried out in pain as one of the deflected bolts grazed her right arm, causing her to drop the blaster. The figure then stuck out its arm, and she froze, literally. She could not move; her body was locked into place by some unseen force. Moira began to tremble violently in an effort to fight it, but it only caused her more pain.

She saw the figure gesture in her direction with its head, and two Stormtroopers moved toward her. They knocked the blaster from her hand, grabbed her by the arms and forced her to her knees, making her eyes water when they dug into her wounded shoulder.

"Search her," the figure commanded.

Moira felt like she was in a daze, but as soon as she felt the hands drift down towards her belt, she snapped.

"No!" she shouted and tried to surge to her feet. "Let go of me you flacking, karking Bucket Heads!" They forced her back down to her knees, so Moira did what she did best-she fought back.

She threw herself down to the ground and kicked out at the one to her right, sweeping him off his feet. She then rolled away from the other that tried to grab at her and sprang to her feet. She lunged at him, placing her hands on his shoulders and swung around, driving her knee right into the weak spot in the armor where the neck was. The trooper dropped like a stone, carrying Moira down with him on his back.

She turned to lunge for her gun that was laying a couple of feet away, just has the modulated voice said: "Stun her."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a blaster raise. _I'm sorry, Poe,_ she thought, before there was a flash of blue, then darkness.

* * *

 

Moira knew that she had worn her stolid interrogator's patience thin when he backhanded her across the face so hard that she bit her cheek. She rolled her head slowly, her neck cracking, and tried to roll her shoulders, which was difficult to do considering the position that she was in. Her arm also hurt; it had gone untreated.

She was strapped to some kind table that locked her in by her ankles and wrists, and it was positioned in such a way that she felt like she was standing up. This was definitely a novel experience for Moira in the way interrogations went.

"Damn," she groaned, "and here I thought that the First Order was above hitting women. My mistake."

"Shut up. You are being an uncooperative and insufferable little brat, and I shall not tolerate it any longer!"

"You flatter me sir, do go on."

The lieutenant (she was able to determine his ranking by the plaques on his uniform) pinched the bridge of his nose in obvious frustration. "I have asked you an innumerable amount of times for the location of the Resistance's base and you have failed to share this information along with how you had even managed to encroach this facility. If you value your life-."

"You stripped me of my gear sir, so you should know how I got in. As for the location of the base, well, sorry, I do not know."

"You lie," the man snapped. "Where else would have gotten that com?"

"Okay, I might've gotten it on _one_ of their bases, but they abandoned it five years ago. I'm honestly surprised that you _haven't_ found any yet; some should be quite obvious."

The officer narrowed his eyes slightly and drew closer. He reached out and grabbed Moira's chin with one hand and touched her collarbone lightly with the other. "My dear," he whispered, "we can make this go the easy way or the hard way. I prefer…" his voice trailed off as the hand on her collarbone began to slowly trail across her shoulder and down her arm.

His fingers pressed the wound on her arm, eliciting a cry of pain from Moira, who in retaliation spat the blood that had been pooling in her mouth into his face.

He reeled back with a cry of disgust, wiping his face. "You bitch!" he snarled as he struck her once more. "You have no idea how much more painful you have made this for yourself."

Moira's hair had fallen out of her braid long ago, so she had to toss it out of her face after the force of the blow displaced it. She smiled grimly at the officer. "You do not intimidate me. I have been trained to withstand almost any form of interrogation since I was thirteen years old, including that ball over there," she said, jerking her head towards the interrogation droid hovering in the corner. "I know how this works."

A light suddenly appeared on the officer's belt, and at this, a sadistic smile appeared on his face. "Not this one," he said right before the door slid up.

Moira went still in her chair as the masked figure entered the room, having to slightly duck under the doorway due to its height. Moira's interrogator stepped to the side as the creature approached, looking torn between discomfort and pleasure.

"Lieutenant Shryner, you are dismissed."

The lieutenant inclined his head. "Of course, Lord Ren." He turned to go.

Moira, as terrified as she was, couldn't help but deliver one more jibe. "Lieutenant?" she called. "You've still got a little bit of something on your nose there…"

Lieutenant Shryner's eyes widened and his face grew as red as some of the lights in the room. He angrily reached up to wipe his face again with the sleeve of his jacket, this time managing to wipe off the blood that was still there.

"There you go," Moira praised with a smile. Shryner scowled at her one more time and exited the room. The sound of the door slamming shut was deafening in Moira's ears.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, until Moira couldn't take it any longer. "Look, as I've already told Lieutenant Can't-Keep-It-In-His-Pants, I don't know where the base is, and there is no way in _hell_ that I am telling you anything else."

The figure that had been established as Lord Ren drew so close to the point where he was towering over her, so close that she could see her reflection in the silver scribed lines around his brow, or where she assumed his brow was.

She shrunk away from him, away from the coldness and the darkness that emanated from him.

"We'll see," was all he said before he lifted his arm.

At first, nothing happened. Then, there was what felt like a nudge against her brain, against her consciousness.

Moira gasped when the pressure abruptly increased. _What was this?_

Her question was answered when the image of the command center on D'Qar suddenly appeared for no apparent reason. She saw the map of the First Order base, she heard Leia's voice: _"I miss him Moira, I just want him back." Oh my gods._ She tried to shove it away and make her mind as blank as possible, but he kept pushing.

"No," Moira whimpered. "No, stop. Get out of my head."

"I know that you were there, on the base. I just need the name, and it will all be-wait, there is something…"

And then, it felt like a white hot steel pike was being driven into Moira's head. She was gasping for air now, writhing underneath her restraints. She felt the hot tears pouring down her face as she began to hear the blood roaring in her ears. "Stop…please," she sobbed, but Ren was relentless.

With a shove from an unseen force, Moira's head slammed back against the table so hard that she saw stars. Her vision started to grow dark around the edges; that probably wasn't a good thing. And yet, he continued to push into her mind, probably seeing things that he had no right to see, but Moira was powerless to stop him.

Finally, it happened. It felt like there was an explosion in her brain; something snapped, and Moira screamed bloody murder. She screamed so loud that Ren actually backed away from her, most likely startled. However, Moira could not hear her own scream over the high-pitched buzz that was now resonating in her mind. She felt something warm run down her mouth and chin, and knew that it was blood. That was definitely not good.

However, Moira was past caring; she was quickly losing grip with reality. Her head hurt so much, and she just wanted it to stop.

Just before she lost consciousness, however, she was aware of the door opening, and heard a familiar voice that shouted for Ren to get back. She heard her name as if it were shouted underwater and felt the restraints open. She fell forward into someone's arms, but by that time, she was gone.

This interrogation had not gone as planned. He had begun to extract the information he needed, but had found something else. While rummaging through the prisoner's mind, he had run into a mental wall, a shield which he could not pass. This was interesting, because the woman was clearly not force-sensitive, so why was he being blocked? Kylo Ren did not know, but he was determined to find out why.

So, he had begun to push against that barrier, attentively at first, and then harder. He was fully aware of the woman's pleas for him to stop, he was aware of her tears, but he didn't care. There was something...familiar about this. He had given one final shove, knowing that he was about to break through, when she screamed. It had surprised him, and when his concentration slipped, the shield rebounded against him, forcing him out.

He had backed away and saw the blood beginning to trickle from the prisoner's nose. That wasn't supposed to happen. Before Kylo could even contemplate his next move, the door behind him opened, followed by a strangled gasp.

"Get away from her, Ren!" General Hux shouted as he strode into the room, followed by two Stormtroopers. He froze in his tracks when Kylo stepped aside to reveal his prisoner. "Oh gods. Moira!" he whispered, before turning toward one of the troopers. "Call the medics, now!" he shouted before turning back towards the woman.

"Get her out of there," he ordered, his voice strained. The other trooper scrambled to do so, and upon her release, the woman fell forward into Hux's arms, and he eased her gently to the floor, cradling her head. She was unresponsive.

Hux continued to hold her and repeat her name until the medics arrived. After a few more tense minutes of the medics trying to figure out if she was alive, one finally found a pulse. After that, the woman was put on a stretcher with an oxygen mask placed over her face and transported out of the room.

That was when Hux rounded on Kylo, who up until that time had been standing frozen in shock. "What is the meaning of this Ren?" the general nearly shouted. "I should have been informed of the incursion before the interrogation began, not after! I should have been present during it!"

The General was seething, and while this was nothing new, and usually entertaining, Kylo was taken aback by the venom in Hux's tone. He quickly recovered and replied with an equally icy tone: "I understand General, but I deemed the interrogation necessary. She posed a clear danger and threat to the First Order and needed to be dealt with immediately." Kylo tilted his head. "You have never stressed this fact when it came to other prisoners," he noted, "so why her? She is just a thief, nothing more than a common criminal."

Hux scowled and turned away from Kylo, looking at the doorway through which the prisoner had been carried. "She is so much more than that," said, sounding weary. "She is my sister."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: WOW, what a twist! Did any of you see that coming, or were you just as shocked as Kylo probably is? Let me know!  
> This chapter was challenging yet fun to write; I found the action and interrogation scene with Kylo to be the most difficult. How does one exactly describe being psychologically tortured and violated like that? If you have any suggestions, let me know!  
> Also, what do you think Kylo ran into while delving through Moira's mind? What does this mean? Will Moira be alright? Plus, how will this long, overdue family reunion go? Spoilers: just as terrible as you could imagine.  
> This was Moira's first major secret, and now with that revealed, we can start exploring her past surrounding that secret even more (flashbacks, personal accounts, memories, etc.)!  
> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! Please review, and remember that constructive criticism is most welcome!  
> Tumblr: fngrl-2187


	6. Chapter 6

Moira's consciousness was in a state of vertigo, constantly spinning and swaying. Sometimes she was completely lost to the darkness of her subconscious, left adrift and isolated from reality. At other times, she was somewhat attuned to the voices that managed to penetrate the veil of awareness. Their voices sounded strange, as if she were underwater.

" _All of her vitals give the impression of normality except for the brain, which shows almost next to no activity. My scans report that Miss Hux has slipped into a trauma-induced coma after suffering an intracerebral hemorrhage, a bleeding in the brain, which also produced the blood from her nose. However, the cause of this hemorrhage is an enigma; the most logical conclusion would be severe pressure on the brain." The voice sounded metallic, like a droid._

" _And can this be treated effectively?" asked another voice, sounding harsh and demanding._

" _We can only keep monitoring her for any signs of improvement or regression and try to relieve pressure on the brain. We have stabilized her condition, but the rest will be up to her, I'm afraid."_

" _How long can this last?" The voice, albeit familiar, became desperate._

" _Indefinitely, sir."_

_There was a sharp intake of breath. "I am going to kill him, the Supreme Leader's favor be damned. I will end him."_

That was all Moira heard before slipping back under. It happened again some unknown amount of time later, but all she could hear were the sounds of machines, especially the one that kept in time with her heart.

Eventually, she began to dream, or more accurately, began to have nightmares.

* * *

 

_She found herself in a dark room, strapped into a chair with restraints that encircled her tiny wrists at least twice. A thick strap that wound across her forehead held her head in place so that the many wires protruding from it could not be displaced. They hurt, the needles that had been pressed into her skull, into her brain._

_An electric shock sent through the wires made her scream, and she was startled to hear how child-like it sounded. What was going on?_

_She then became aware of the men and women sitting around her, watching her or monitoring holograms that had the image of a brain on them- her brain. They stared at her with a detached curiosity, as if she was the subject of an experiment, which she suddenly realized she was._

_She looked around the room desperately with wide eyes, and then she saw him. "Daddy!" she screamed. "Daddy, make them stop! They're hurting me!" Her voice was that of a child; she was a child._

_Brendol Hux Sr. stared at her with an unreadable, almost impassive expression. "Just move the block, Moira, and you'll be done, I promise."_

" _I can't!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "I can't do it!"_

_Her father's face remained as hard as quartz. "Then we'll keep going," he said coldly before nodding to the others. Another jolt of pain hit her, then another, and then another. Moira's screams intensified with each shock. What was this? She did not remember this happening to her at all in the past, so why did it feel so real, so familiar?_

_Her screams started to sound older and more familiar as the room began to change. Her father disappeared along with the strangers and wires and holoscreens. However, she was still restrained, but no longer to a chair. She was back in the interrogation room, strapped into that infernal contraption. The monster in the mask was once again before her, pushing into her mind. She continued screaming, unable to fight back, just like when she was small. With one final scream, she jerked forward-_

* * *

 

And awake. She was immediately blinded by the brightness and flinched away involuntarily, groaning. She went to cover her eyes, but found that she could not completely move her arm.

Blinking, she looked down at the IV protruding from the inside of her right elbow. She blinked once more in confusion. _What the hell…?_

Moira yanked it out quickly and hissed with pain. Grabbing her bleeding arm, she took note of her surroundings. She looked to be in a small white room that smelled of bacta. She was currently sitting up on a firm white mattress elevated above the white floor. More importantly, she was alone, and her head was killing her.

"Ugh," she groaned, placing a bloody hand on her head. This felt worse than her worst hangover, and that had been bad.

Her hair was damp. Why was it damp? More importantly, _why_ was she here? _Where_ was she? All of a sudden, an awareness came over her, and she could sense that something was coming. She could not explain why; it was just a feeling deep down in her gut, a warning that sparked in her mind. She had to act fast.

Moira fell back down against the pillow and closed her eyes just as the door slid up. She heard something approach her bed and make a startled noise. It sounded like a droid. "Oh my, what happened here?" Yes, definitely a droid.

Moira slowly and carefully cracked open an eye. A 21-B medical droid had entered the room and was currently setting a tray full of medical instruments down on her bedside table. As it began to rummage through its tools, Moira slowly sat up. The droid, detecting her movement, turned back towards her. "Miss Hux," it began, "you should not be-."

It never got to finish, for with speed and strength that she did not know she possessed, Moira lunged across the small space separating them, grabbed the droid by the head, and slammed it against the table. Her momentum carried her off the bed, but she hung onto that droid for the whole way down, taking it with her.

Moira tried to get to her feet, but her legs gave out from under her, sending her crashing back down to the floor. _Sithspit!_ She madly crawled toward the bedside table and grabbed onto it. Her fingers caught the edge of the tray, upending it and its contents all over the floor. By that time, the droid was also struggling to get to its feet. "Miss," it began, its voice warped by the new dent in its vocoder. It reached toward her.

With a snarl, Moira grabbed the tray, and with all of her might, jammed it right through the droid's exposed neck. It immediately dropped to the floor, sparks flying from its neck. She watched it struggle till its eyes went dim. "Sorry," she muttered, before turning back to the table. She placed her hands back on the edge and struggled to stand, her legs trembling with the effort. They nearly gave out twice, but Moira managed to hang on. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she was finally standing, barely, but still standing. _Alright, time to get out of here._

She took a step forward, and fell flat on her face. "Damn it," she hissed into the floor. She looked back at her legs. _Useless._ How long had she been out for to cause the atrophy in her legs? Maybe she should have asked the droid that _before_ she all but decapitated it. Speaking of the droid…

Moira turned back to the smoking droid and grabbed the keycard that was tucked into a cavity in its chest. Then, with the keycard in hand, she began the laborious task of dragging herself around the bed and towards the door. Once she reached the frame, she pushed herself up into a seated position, catching her breath. She was disgusted with herself right now; she should and would _not_ be reduced to crawling around on her hands and knees, waiting for someone to find her and put her right back in that bed.

With that thought strengthening her resolve, she placed the keycard between her teeth and turned herself to face the doorframe _. Alright self_ , she thought, _you are going to get your ass off of this floor, open the door, and walk out of here._ She did just that.

She must have been a sight walking down the halls of the med bay, clad only in a thin pale blue hospital gown, barefoot, pale and sweaty, and with blood running down her arm from the hole in it. However, there was no one there, not even a droid. Was she the only patient here, wherever _here_ was? She highly doubted it.

Her suspicions were proven correct when she began to hear the low hum of voices; she realized that she must have been in a private suite.

She quickly turned down the nearest corridor to escape the voices and swiped the keycard to open the door at the end of it. She stepped through and found herself in another hallway, but in this one, the walls were an interesting combination of metal and rock. She must have exited through a private entrance to the med bay, for this hallway was vacant too. Moira knew that she was pressing her luck, but she continued down it anyway.

When she heard the echoes of footsteps, she looked up and saw that there were walkways suspended above her. She saw the Stormtroopers marching across one and her blood went cold. They were too high up to see her, but the sight was still disorienting. Everything was now disorienting. _What was going on?_

She glanced behind her and saw the inconsistent trail of blood, drops of it laying in an irregular pattern. She looked back down at her arm and stared at the blood in wonder. She wiped some off with her finger and looked at it; it looked brighter than usual. Moira wiped her finger off on her gown and shivered; it was cold in here. She then turned her head slowly towards a new sound. People. Maybe they could help her. As if in a dream, Moira began to follow the voices and ducked into the first opening that she saw to her right, and she nearly fell down a flight of stairs.

She had entered some kind of office space or common area, though it looked like a communications room. Beneath her, men and women in uniform sat at desks that lined the perimeter of the room, staring at holos and communicating through headsets. In the center of the room, there were some tables at which some people sat, making lighthearted conversation or vigorously scanning datapads.

Moira leaned against the railing, staring down at everyone, but they hadn't seemed to notice her yet. She descended the stairs in slow, measured steps, her feet barely making a sound. When she reached the bottom, she paused and looked around. She saw one man, a young officer by the looks of it, take notice of her from his position at a table, and he frowned. She started toward him when she unexpectedly went light headed, stumbling against one of the tables. This time, more people noticed her.

The man who had been sitting at the table she fell into stood and went to her, grabbing her for support. "Ma'am?" he asked. "Are you alright?" Ignoring him, Moira moved away, for her attention was now on something else. A hologram was being projected from the wall, displaying the small image of a hooded figure who was in the middle of some kind of monologue. As she drew closer, paying no heed to the eyes that were now on her, Moira was able to make out the words—and who was saying them. Her own eyes widened with horror.

" _It is the task of the First Order to remove the disorder from our own existence, so that civilization may be returned to the stability that promotes progress. A stability that existed under the Empire, was reduced to anarchy by the Rebellion, was inherited in turn by the so-called Republic, and will be restored by us. Future historians will look upon this as the time when a strong hand brought the rule of law back to civilization…"_

She saw the mask under the hood, heard the deep and amplified voice, and remembered. She was unable to stop the inundation of memories that came rushing in. She had been captured by the First Order and had been interrogated. She remembered the mask looming before her, the gloved hand that had been inches away from her face. She remembered her screams, but most of all, she remembered the pain, the pain that this _thing_ projected above her was responsible for. She hadn't known his name then, but now she did. "Kylo Ren," she whispered, and slowly turned around.

The man who had steadied her was stared at her with a worried expression on his face. "Ma'am?" he asked again, approaching her cautiously. Moira looked at him and then around the room. Not everyone was aware of her presence yet, but they would soon. She knew what she had to do. With that final thought, Moira's vision turned red.

Moira took a step toward the officer approaching and swiftly roundhouse kicked him right in the jaw, sending him crashing to the floor. Another officer who had been sitting to the right jumped up from his chair, and Moira, still moving from the momentum of her previous kick, spun quickly around and kicked him in the face with her other leg. She then kicked in the head another man who had also gotten up to catch his unconscious friend before kicking a chair out her way, which knocked another officer over. When she sensed someone coming from behind her, she dropped to the ground, and swept her would-be attacker off his feet.

Quickly, she sprang to her feet and charged straight towards two officers, a man and woman who moved to get out of her way, but were too late. Moira came at them with the full force of a reek, leaping up into the air and pushed off of them, flipping backwards from the force of the kick. By now, men were shouting, the women screaming, and many were moving to get away from the unstoppable force that was Moira Hux.

However, there were some that fought back. One soldier got in a lucky punch, but Moira, not feeling it, punched right back even harder, sending him reeling. Someone, in their haste to escape, tried to run past Moira, who simply grabbed and threw them to the ground. She turned back only to receive another punch in the face, to which she retaliated with a vicious kick that floored her opponent. She blocked another attack with a kick, but was then grabbed from behind while someone came at her front. She leaned back and kicked them away, and upon landing, leaned forward and kicked the man holding her in the back of the head. Extricating herself from his grasp, she held onto to one of his wrists and spun out, kicking his chest and then spinning back in to face the man she had just kicked down, who tried to punch at her, got blocked, and was kicked down again. Finally, Moira finished the man whose wrist she was still holding by flipping him over her shoulder.

Spotting a few people making for the stairs, Moira raced to one of the columns supporting them and climbed up it, just in time to kick someone off of the stairs…and another one. The third one received a punch to the gut and was sent sliding down feet first. Someone who must have heard the commotion entered behind her and immediately got a kick to the face. Finished with the top, Moira front flipped gracefully down the steps and planted a kick right into an unfortunate officer's chest.

Someone else grabbed her from behind, someone a lot stronger than the first person who tried. "Miss Hux," they said, "stop this now!" Moira responded with a knifehand strike to their groin, and there was a grunt of pain as one of the hands slipped from her arm to cover that sensitive spot. Taking advantage of that, Moira reached up to elbow them in the face. Now that she was completely free, she reached over to one of the tables, grabbed a tray (what was it with her and trays today?), and hit the large man first in the chest and then over the head, which knocked him out cold.

The room had mostly been cleared, save for the unconscious bodies that littered the floor. Nevertheless, three remained, three of the bravest idiots. They all came at her at once, hoping to get the upper hand. It did not last long. After a few exchanges of punches and blocks, Moira jabbed one in the throat, caught another one in a chokehold, grabbed the blaster from his hip, and shot the third squarely in the chest. She then kicked upwards, effectively hitting the man that she held in a chokehold in the face.

She then sensed something that something was behind and she spun, swinging the blaster around, ready to take aim, and froze. A man in uniform was standing at the top of the stairs, aiming a blaster at her, his blue eyes wide with shock and fear. Behind him were three Stormtroopers aiming at her as well, but Moira wasn't paying them any attention. She continued to stare at the man who clearly was an authoritative figure. He was tall, looked to be in his early thirties, and had red hair that was neatly styled, but that was not what made Moira hesitate. There was something familiar about him.

By this time, the redness in her vision had begun to clear, and she began to feel the pain in her arm and head again. She also felt blood running down her forehead from a cut that she didn't remember receiving. Her arm began to tremble, causing the blaster in her had to do so as well, but she held her aim. "Moira," the man began, his voice gentle as if he was calming a frightened animal. Then, the Stormtroopers parted to allow someone through, someone whose visage was covered by a mask. Moira narrowed her eyes as hatred swelled within her.

_Kylo Ren_

With an animalistic snarl, Moira turned the blaster toward him with the intention to kill. Kylo waved his hand, and everything went dark.

* * *

 

General Hux nearly dropped his blaster in shock as his shoulders sagged with relief. He turned to look at Kylo Ren, who was standing motionless a few feet away. He did not need to ask him what he had done. Instead, he returned his blaster to his hip and descended the stairs to approach his sister's motionless body among all of the others. He scooped her into his arms and was shocked at how light she was, how small.

He surveyed the scene before him, the aftermath of his sister's murderous rampage; he had seen her shoot an officer before turning the blaster on him. She might have shot him, had it not been for Kylo. He had seen the look in her eyes. It had been the wild look of an animal trapped in a cage.

When he'd been contacted about Moira's reemergence of brain activity, he had immediately ordered a shuttle to take him from the _Executor_ back to Starkiller Base. He had expected to find her the same way she had been before she had entered the bacta tank two standard weeks ago: asleep. What he hadn't expected as soon as he stepped out of the shuttle was to hear that his sister had woken and escaped from the med bay, running amok around the base. He had dispatched multiple search parties, one lead by himself, and then heard about the commotion in the communication center's common area.

He did not quite know what to expect when he entered the room, but it definitely had not been this. Luckily, Kylo had also been on the base at the time and was able to find them before things got worse.

Hux turned and ascended the stairs slowly. "Call as many medics as possible, and call for sanitation to help clean up this mess."

"Yessir," the Stormtrooper captain replied, saluting.

Hux turned toward Kylo, whose helmet was now angled in the direction of Hux's precious cargo. "Thank you," Hux murmured, the words poison on his tongue. Never in his life did he imagine that he would thank Ren for anything, yet here he was.

Kylo did not acknowledge him at first, but still looked up. "Until you give this girl back to the medics, do not thank me." Before Hux could respond, the Knight of Ren turned and left.

When Moira woke again, she was greeted with the sight of a familiar white room. "Aw, shit!" she cried, and moved to get up, but found that her wrists were cuffed to the sides of the bed with binders. At this, Moira let out a stream of obscenities and began to thrash around, screaming in frustration. When the door slid open, however, she fell silent.

A young human male in a grey medic's uniform entered the room, followed by another 21-B droid. "It is useless to fight your restraints, Miss Hux. It will only do you more harm. You lost quite a bit of blood earlier."

Moira narrowed her eyes at him. "Who the hell are you, and where the hell am I?"

"My name is Dr. Meryn Tarly, your appointed physician for the time being. As for where you are, you are in the medical facility here on Starkiller Base." Moira frowned in confusion.

"Starkiller _What_? Last time I checked, I was on Ord Mantell!"

Dr. Tarly approached almost cautiously, which would have been amusing under different circumstances. "Your critical condition required you to be transported to a superior facility, which happens to be here. You were placed inside a bacta tank until your brain showed signs of activity, and you were moved to a private suite to be monitored until you woke up." He paused, as if contemplating his next words, but Moira knew what he was thinking.

"You might want to keep that thing away from me," she said, nodding towards the droid. "I pretty much trashed the last one."

Dr. Tarly chuckled dryly. "Don't worry; you won't get the chance again. You are properly restrained, and there are guards positioned right outside that door." He began to check her vitals.

Moira grinned. "Protection? They shouldn't have." Dr. Tarly actually rolled his eyes at her comment.

"Perhaps I should consider putting you under before your meeting with the General. The soldiers wouldn't have to listen to that mouth of yours the entire way."

"They always complain about my mouth until I start using it for…other things. Would you like to know them?"

If the medic had been phased by that at all, he didn't show it; it must be some doctor thing. "Are we being monitored?" she asked abruptly.

Dr. Tarly turned to look at her with a small smirk. "Of course," he said.

"Oh, good… _E CHU TA!_ " she shouted in Huttese, making Dr. Tarly jump. "There," she said, turning to face him. "I feel much better now. You can call in those bucketheads and let them cuff me. I won't try to escape."

* * *

 

She soon found herself dressed in a black thermal long sleeved shirt, black leggings, and her boots. She would much rather be wearing her bodysuit, but it was cold in here, and at least she got to wear her boots. Her hair was a bit of a mess, but it wasn't like she could do anything about it. She was marched down a series of hallways, hands cuffed in front of her, and with four troopers surrounding her, one on each side.

When they reached their destination, two troopers remaining outside while the other two ushered her inside. They had entered some kind of conference room; a long oval-shaped table surrounded by chairs sat in the center of the room. Most of the chairs were empty, except for two: the one at the head of the table and the one directly to its right. However, Moira balked and her breath caught in her throat when she saw _who_ was standing behind the aforementioned chair. She almost didn't notice her binders being removed.

"Moira," called the man who sat at the head of the table, "please take a seat."

She couldn't, she wouldn't. "Not with him here," she said hoarsely. She did not need to elaborate.

There was a snort from the man sitting in the other chair. "Not so tough now, are you?"

Moira snapped her head in his direction so fast that her neck actually cracked. "Lieutenant Shryner," she said in a sultry voice, all fear gone, "so, you've come back for more, huh? They always do."

Immediately, Shryner's eyes went wide, and he glowered at Moira as she stepped away from the troopers and took the seat across from him, avoiding any eye contact with Kylo Ren.

As soon as she was seated, she swiveled to face the man diagonal from her and crossed her arms. "You weren't supposed to be there for another five days," she said in the most accusatory tone possible, and most of it was genuine.

Her brother raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. That clearly wasn't what he had expected her to say. "I was not," he agreed, "but I had no choice but to go there when I was alerted that the facility had been breached." He tilted his head, indicating his curiosity. "How are you feeling?"

Moira snorted. So, he was going to go this route. She decided to answer honestly; it wouldn't hurt. "Like I've been trampled by a herd of nerfs while hungover and then thrown out of an airlock. I also feel really pissed off, but that's not new." She leaned back against the cool leather. "Let's just cut to the chase. Why am I here, Armitage?"

He actually had the nerve to look hurt. "Isn't it obvious?"

Moira shook her head. "No, actually, it's not. I know that you're going to say because I'm your sister, but no, that can't be the reason. It would mean that you actually cared about me. I have no doubt I'm here because of what I tried to steal and the multiple people that I've injured or killed. Just say it; it'll make things _so_ much easier."

Hux looked shocked. "You think that I don't care about you?"

Moira shrugged. "Why else leave me behind then? I bet that you don't even know how old I am now."

Her brother's face now looked torn between anger and guilt. "First, you are twenty-six years old, and second, I did not leave you behind Moira! It was the damned Republic's fault that we were separated, not mine!"

"You ran all the same," Moira said darkly. "They executed our father shortly afterward. They didn't want me to see it when it happened, but I did because I wanted to. It brought me neither satisfaction nor grief, but I still cried because I thought: 'Now I'm alone.' I knew that you weren't going to come back for me. You left me behind so you could go off with the others and conquer the galaxy without your pacifist of a sister to question your every decision. You left behind a twelve year old girl who was terrified when strangers with guns burst into her room. You left me behind, though now I'm glad that you did."

Moira had remained calm during the entire delivery, so she didn't know what had stunned her brother into silence more: her words or her impassive tone. Shryner had gone pale, and Kylo Ren stayed just as stoic.

"So," she sighed, "now that we've cleared that up, tell me, what do you plan on doing with me?"

Hux looked visibly uncomfortable, but he cleared his throat and began speaking in a diplomatic tone, the tone of a general. "You shall remain here for an indefinite amount of time until I figure out what to do with you. You shall be staying here as my guest-."

"Oh, right, because you treat your guests with _so_ much respect," Moira snapped, glancing up at Kylo Ren for the first time since she entered the room.

"Kylo Ren has been reprimanded about his previous conduct, though to be fair, you tried to kill him."

 _"Fair?!"_ Moira spluttered, leaning forward. "There was nothing _fair_ about it! He has a kriffing laser sword!"

"Miss Hux," came the deep voice, "I am standing right here." Did he sound amused?

Moira now scowled at him. "I know," she flatly. "You're pretty hard to miss." Her comment was met with silence, and Moira realized that she might have made a mistake. Fortunately, Hux decided to speak.

"You will be assigned a comfortable living space that will be guarded at all times. This will happen, indefinitely, until you can be trusted or when I decide what to do with you."

 _Wonderful, I'm being placed under house arrest._ "What does that mean, ' _until I can be trusted'_ , that is?"

Her brother looked thoughtful. "We shall see. For now, Lt. Shryner here has told me about your unwillingness to cooperate during his time interrogating you. Is that true?"

"Is this a trick question? What else was I supposed to do? I'm not supposed to cooperate."

"True. He also reported that you claimed that you were trained to withstand most interrogation methods. I would like to know how this is possible."

Moira narrowed her eyes. "Would you really like to know? You might not like the answer. This goes beyond the stuff that Father taught us about interrogation droids."

He nodded his head. "Tell me."

"Hm. More like show." As she said this, Moira pulled up her sleeve enough to expose the inside of her wrist. "Look familiar?" she asked bitterly, showing it to him.

Hux's eyes went wide when he saw the tattoo. "You're one of them? But, the Syndicate was destroyed six years ago."

"Yes," Moira said flatly, "it was. You saw to that, didn't you? As a result, I am no longer a member, but I trained with and worked for the Black Sun for seven years. They found me when I was broken, built me back up, and made me who I am today." She yanked her sleeve back down and got to her feet. Hux got to his as well. "Now, if show and tell is over, am I free to go? Is there a gym or something of the sort here? I really feel like punching something, and I'd rather it not be you." She paused. "On second thought…" Without any warning, Moira punched Hux straight across the jaw.

Shryner reeled back, the Stormtroopers immediately raised their weapons, and Kylo Ren did nothing. "Wait, no, stand down!" Hux yelled to the troopers, clutching his jaw. "I suppose that I deserve that," he said ruefully.

"That and more," Moira said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, that was a fun one to write. Another one of Moira's secrets has been revealed: she was part of the Black Sun Crime Syndicate! Don't worry, you'll learn more about them as the story progresses.  
> Also, what do you think of Moira's nightmare at the beginning of the chapter? What could it mean?  
> What is in store for Moira now that she is on Starkiller Base? A lot more than you think. Things are only going to get crazier and more complicated from here.  
> What did you think of Moira's interaction with General Hux? If he seemed out of character, let me know! He might have seemed wishy washy in this chapter, but that's really just because of Moira. Later on we'll get to see the general we all know and hate, and so will Moira. Duhn duhn duhn!  
> One more thing: as I have said before, I am not really good at writing action scenes, so to give you a visual of Moira's rampage, here is a link to a scene from the movie Serenity. If you watch it, you'll be able to spot the similarities between the scene in this chapter and the scene in the movie that I took inspiration from. /MoMpau_B2Io If the link does not work, I apologize! If you are still interested in how the fight scene played out, look up River Tam Fight Scene on YouTube.  
> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello again! I would just like to thank everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed my story; it means so much to me! I'm so thrilled that I had to write another chapter ASAP, so here it is! This chapter is just going to set some things up for the rest of the story, and it also gives you all a break after these last two chapters, well, sort of.  
> Warning: This chapter may get a little difficult to read midway through due a bit of a sensitive subject, but it doesn't last long, and I apologize if it upsets anyone; it was never my intention!  
> I hope that you all enjoy!

True to her brother's word, Moira was escorted to her room, which, when compared to a cell, was nothing short of accommodating. When the door slid open, Moira had been surprised by the warm blast of air that came through, but she was even more shocked about the quality of her quarters.

It was basically a square, with three walls being grey steel, and the other a natural rock wall, just like some of the hallways here (the place must have been built into a mountain). The floor was grey durasteel as well, but a large, shaggy black rug covered most of it. The room was lit with ambient lights and the only window in the room probably provided light as well, but it was dark outside. The bed was full-sized and low to the ground, fitted with a dark grey comforter and probably grey sheets as well. A small dresser with a mirror above it stood along the wall. Across from the bed was a small living area—a glass coffee table surrounded by a black leather sofa and two chairs that matched. A disk sat on the table, most likely a holovid projector. Moira had honestly been expecting something more demoralizing, but she wasn't about to complain.

After removing her binders, the Stormtroopers closed the door behind her, leaving her standing alone in the center of the room. Moira wrapped her arms around her middle, even though it was much warmer in here than it was out there. Not knowing what to do, she walked slowly to the door and pressed the button to open it. She didn't know what she was expecting to happen, but she was not surprised when it did not open. So they _had_ locked her in here, she now confirmed.

" _We will continue this conversation tomorrow, as I have other pressing issues to attend to," Hux said, still rubbing his jaw. "You will be escorted to your residence and will remain there for the rest of the night. If you should be in need of anything, there is a special com that will enable you to contact the guards, Dr. Tarly, or myself. Meals will be brought to you accordingly. Do not even entertain the thought of escape; it shall be impossible."_

_"I'm starting to sound more like your **prisoner** than guest, Armitage," Moira observed out loud. "I won't try to escape, I promise." She tried her best to sound convincing, which included pouting her lips and batting her eyes._

_"That won't work on me anymore, Moira, you are no longer eight years old."_

_Moira shrugged. "It was worth a shot, and by the way, it worked till I was eleven; don't try to deny it."_

_Hux simply rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. "We are done here. You are dismissed."_

_Moira bowed mockingly. "Yes, sir." She allowed the Stormtroopers to cuff her again, and as she was led out of the room, she stole one more glance at Kylo Ren, who she sensed was looking right at her._

She shook her head clear of the memory and leaned her back against the door, surveying the room. _What do they expect me to do all day in here?_ Then it came to her. They wanted her to get bored, they wanted her to become stir-crazy, they wanted her to crack. She would do anything, _say_ anything to get out of here. She had feeling that she knew what they would want her to say. She had to give her brother credit; he did seem to have inherited some of their father's tactical genius.

With that theory in mind, Moira decided to get a shower. The refresher wasn't difficult to find, and it was just as nice. The shower was literally an alcove built into the stone wall, blocked only by a glass door, reminding her of a hot spring, especially when she turned on the water. Steam began to fill the room, fogging up the mirror and making her sweat. She quickly stripped off her clothes and stepped in, groaning with pleasure as the hot water began to caress her stiff, sore muscles. As she let the water run over her, the true gravity of the situation began to bear down on Moira.

She was now essentially a prisoner of the First Order, though her brother continued to use the euphemism "guest" instead. She had failed to steal the map to Luke Skywalker, she had failed to escape, she had failed the Resistance, but most of all, she had failed Poe and Leia. Poe because she had promised to come back, and Leia because she had promised to help her get her brother back, hoping to help Leia succeed where she herself had failed.

It was becoming harder to breathe, and Moira was soon unable to differentiate her tears from the water raining down on her. She had failed. Unable to stand anymore, she collapsed against one of the walls, pulling her knees toward her chest as she continued to sob. When all of her tears were shed, she continued to sit there, trembling, staring out into the empty space, her eyes burning.

She sat like that until the water turned cold, stinging her face and back. She pushed herself to her feet, shut off the water, and exited the shower. She mindlessly grabbed a towel and wrapped herself in it, and dried her hair with another. She padded back out into her room and scrounged through the dresser. Of course everything was black. After she was dressed, she observed her reflection in the mirror.

There were dark circles under her eyes, standing out starkly from her pale skin. The cut above her left eye that she had received earlier was gone, healed by a bacta patch. Going back to her eyes, she saw they were red and puffy from crying, but was startled by the dullness in them; she looked like she had given up and had accepted defeat. That only made her angry. No, she hadn't given up, and there was no way in all nine hells that she would any time soon.

That was when she remembered something else that Poe had said to her: _"Just stay alive. Whatever it takes. You'll make them suffer, not the other way around."_ And she was. She was going to do whatever it took to stay alive, to escape. She was going to be the one making the demands, not the other way around.

A service droid brought her dinner, but she no longer had an appetite. Instead, she turned off the lights and crawled into bed.

As she lay in her bed in the darkness, she resolved that while she here, she might as well raise Hell.

* * *

 

 _She was ten years old again, dashing down the corridors of the new_ Resurgent _-class Star Destroyer proudly named the_ Resurrection _in an attempt to escape her daily lessons—and the terribly boring droid that taught them. She dodged the legs of officers and stormtroopers who were coalescing in the halls, throwing back offhand apologies here and there. She hoped that she knew where she was going, as they had just recently transferred from the old_ Imperial _-class Star Destroyer to this one, which was much larger._

_Father and Brendol had gone off-ship again to some planet called Illum, leaving Moira behind again with Glitch. It wasn't fair; Moira had been living in the Unknown Regions all her life, having been born on a Star Destroyer, yet she had not once visited one of the planets there. Glitch didn't understand of course; he was a droid. He taught her about the planets, but how could she utilize her knowledge of them if she couldn't go in the first place? Her brother got to go, and Moira bet that he didn't know half of what she did. She always performed better than him at academics, and he was four years older than her! She still corrected his grammar from time to time and did his trigonometry (four levels higher than what she was currently studying) for him, though Glitch didn't know that, nor did he know the origin of the bruises that variably appeared on her arms. She rarely ever shared her father's sentiments, but her brother did. Maybe that was why he got to go._

_Nevertheless, if Moira had to sit through one more lecture about the history of the "benevolent" Galactic Empire, she was either going to go mad or throw herself out an airlock, so she ran. She hadn't gotten far when Glitch alerted security about her truancy, and they were hot on her tail. Luckily, she was faster._

_She quickly turned a corner and ran right smack into what felt like a durasteel wall. Moira, being the less massive object in this collision, bounced back right onto her backside while the more massive object basically remained in place. "Sorry," she began to say, when she realized who she was addressing. "Oh, no!" she gasped._

_Officer Colm grinned cruelly down at her, his hands planted on his hips and his feet spread apart, which Moira translated as a sign of aggression. "Well, well, well! Look who we have here!"_

_Before Moira could scramble to get away, her original pursuer reached down and yanked her to her feet. "Cutting class and causing a disturbance onboard? Your father will certainly hear of this insubordination!" At his words, a cold hand gripped Moira's heart like a vice, and she allowed herself to be marched to her father's office, silent the entire way._

_She waited for what felt like hours, and then the door slid up to reveal Commandant Brendol Hux Sr. accompanied by two stormtroopers. Her brother wasn't with them. Moira began to feel the onset of panic, indicated by the way her hands began to shake and her heartbeat began to quicken. She knew why her brother was absent, and she felt her bottom lip begin to quiver._

_Her father stood silent, staring at his daughter in a way that suggested disapproval. "Imagine," he began, his voice as cool as the ice caps of Hoth, "returning from a successful trip to your success of a ship, a ship that you had put in hundreds of thousands of hours to plan, oversee construction, and command, a ship that you pride for its organization, size, and strength, to find it reduced to temporary chaos because your rebellious daughter decided to run rampant around the ship. Imagine how that makes you feel. Could you imagine the displeasure, the embarrassment? Could you imagine the setbacks that could have been caused by this inconvenience, this insurgence?"_

_Moira could not speak right away, she could not even think straight. "Father," she finally began, "it was not my intention to be recalcitrant. I was only-."_

" _Spare me your excuses. Tell me the truth of why you absconded your lessons."_

 _Moira began to pick at her sleeves. She wanted to cry. She didn't want to tell him the truth, not this time. "Glitch, I mean_ G-1T4 _, was going to give a lecture about the Clone Wars today. I deemed it unnecessary because, theoretically speaking, the Clone Wars took place before the Empire was formed, therefore irrational to learn about."_

_Her father stared at her for a moment, and then began softly: "Did you know that it was the formation of the Empire that brought an end to the Clone Wars, that it was the formation of the Empire that brought peace to the galaxy? No? Well, you would have if you had remained in class."_

_He had moved to stand behind his desk, scrutinizing her. "The galaxy was in turmoil. Many lives were being lost. The Supreme Chancellor, the future Emperor, saw this, and knew that he needed to end the war as soon as he could; the Senate was only complicating things, not simplifying them. Therefore, the Chancellor knew that the only way to bring about the end of the war was to create the First Intergalactic Empire, with which-."_

" _But he was wrong!" Moira did not know why she decided to say those words, but she did know that it was too late to try to retrieve them. The room had gone deathly silent._

" _What did you say?" her father asked, his voice barely above a whisper._

_Moira took a deep breath. "I said that the Chancellor was wrong. He was wrong to conclude that forming the Empire would bring stability to the galaxy. Thousands more died being brought under the Empire's control, populations were enslaved, genocides were committed, and not to mention that the Emperor himself was an evil Sith Lord; he had lied to the galaxy! The Empire was cruel, oppressive, and hubristic. No wonder that the Rebel-."_

_She never got to finish, for her father rose abruptly from his seat and backhanded her right across the face. Moira stumbled, but did not cry out. She did whimper though, when he grabbed her around the arm and began to squeeze hard enough to form bruises. "You insolent girl!" he shouted. "How dare you speak so lowly of the Empire to those who are trying to restore it?"_

_Tears were now leaking from Moira's eyes. Now this was real; she definitely remembered this happening to her. "I-I'm sorry!" she cried. She wanted her brother._ Armitage, where are you? _she thought._

" _Enough from you!" her father shouted, hitting her again. The stormtroopers remained motionless at their posts, watching the whole affair with disinterest, or maybe they were just trying to ignore it. Brendol Hux gave his daughter a hard shove, knocking her down, but when Moira hit the ground, it wasn't the cold hard metal floor. Instead, she found herself lying face first in mud._

 _She shot up, gasping for breath, only to discover that she was now standing in the middle of a downpour in what looked to be an open field or courtyard, and that she was surrounded by bodies._ What is this? _As she looked around her in horror, she heard a familiar sound that would forever be ingrained into her memory. A flash of lighting highlighted several dark clothed figures, their robes flapping in the wind. They were all masked and wielding deadly weapons. Moira did not recognize them, but she did know who they were flanking, and it terrified her._

_Kylo Ren turned towards her, wielding his fiery red sword, which she somehow now knew was a lightsaber. To her horror, he began to stride towards her, and she began to stumble backwards, only to trip over a body. She fell on her back, and gasped when he appeared above her. Without hesitation, he raised his sword and swung it down at her in a deadly red arc. Moira rolled to the side—_

* * *

 

And off the bed, landing on the floor in an entanglement of sheets and limbs. She was sweating profusely and quivering so hard that her teeth chattered. Her breath came out in uneven, ragged gasps, and she realized that she was sobbing.

This was the second nightmare that she had had in two consecutive days, and they both had begun with her father and ended with Kylo Ren. She did not know what that meant, but she did not like it. She hadn't dreamed about her father in years, so why now? Was it triggered by seeing her brother again, being surrounded again by an Imperial-esque environment, or something else? She found herself involuntarily checking her arms for bruises, even though she knew that there weren't any. Old habits die hard.

Moira clutched the sheets closer to her body, bunching them together at her chest. What was with the other part of her dream? While the first half had merely been a memory that had manifested itself in a nightmare, the second half she did not recognize. Perhaps Kylo Ren had impacted her more than she originally thought. Had he terrified her that much? _Well, he did almost kill me,_ she thought. She decided to regard it as nothing more than her own fears preying on her imagination.

Too shaken to climb back into bed, Moira continued to lie on the floor, pulling the sheets around her. She tried to get back to sleep, but every single time she shut her eyes she saw her father towering over her or the blinding flash of a lightsaber.

Morning couldn't come soon enough for Moira, who woke up with one the worst kinks in her neck. Perhaps sleeping on the floor hadn't been such a good idea after all. With a moan, Moira untangled herself from the bedsheets, rose to her knees, and gave her neck a solid crack which resounded throughout the room. " _Yes_ ," she hissed with satisfaction, rolling her shoulders.

The room was still dim, but now there was a light shining through the window. Curious, Moira got to her feet, and wandered over to it. At first, she did not know what she was looking at. She spotted the tips of mountains in the distance, but it was so bright that she could hardly see a thing due to the sun's light reflecting off of the…wait. "Oh my stars," she whispered. It couldn't be, or could it? This was something that she was going to have to ask her brother when she saw him again, whenever that was.

* * *

 

"There is something that is troubling you," Supreme Leader Snoke observed from his throne above. "You seem distracted, distant, your thoughts preoccupied by something else. Care to divulge it with me?"

Kylo Ren looked up at his master, finally distracted from his musings. Snoke was right; he had been more aloof than usual during this most recent meeting, tuning out General Hux as he had droned incessantly about successful campaigns, the progress of their superweapon, and Resistance activity. Not for the first time, Kylo was grateful for the fact that no one could see his face, but Snoke did not need to in order to know that something was amiss. His mind had indeed begun to wander back to the questions that had been plaguing him for weeks, and his master had sensed it too. When the meeting was over, Kylo remained behind, as was his routine. He was always given personal time with the Supreme Leader to either be tasked with a new mission or to fill his master in on the Knights of Ren's progress in searching for Luke Skywalker.

Snoke had been informed weeks ago about the attempt to steal the map, and he had not been pleased at all. _"So,"_ he had said, with Kylo and Hux both present, _"the Resistance is also looking for Skywalker. It is unlikely that they have the missing piece; they might not have even known there was one at all. However, we still must be surreptitious in our search for it; they cannot know."_

Now, Kylo stood alone before the Supreme Leader, feeling apprehensive. Would his master share his concerns, or would he dismiss them as mere paranoia, or worse, a weakness? Once again, he was glad that the mask concealed his nervous face.

"Supreme Leader," he began, "I have indeed been troubled by thoughts surrounding the thief who had attempted to steal the map on Ord Mantell."

"Ah," Snoke exhaled, lounging against his throne, "the Hux girl, correct? The General's estranged sister. Such a pity. What of her? I have heard that she is quite the enticing spitfire." His tone was conversational, but there was an underlying tone that made Kylo feel uneasy, awkward even, and the skin on his face inexplicably began to burn.

"Yes," he said, "she is. General Hux's sister, I mean. I personally oversaw her capture and interrogation, and while doing so, something happened, something I cannot entirely explain."

"Yes, I heard that the poor girl had been nearly killed. Be gentler next time, Ren."

Kylo bit his lip and clenched his fists. _He finds this amusing._ He pressed on. "That was just it; she should not have ended up like that. I was not pushing too hard, until…" He let his voice trail off, hoping this would capture Snoke's attention, and it did.

"Until what?" Snoke asked, his eyes narrowing. "Out with it!"

"I was…unable to gain access to the entirety of her mind. There was something there blocking me, and when I began to push harder in an attempt to break through, she began to react strangely, as if I was physically ripping into her skull. I was almost through when it rebounded against me, forcing me out. By then, she had lost consciousness."

Snoke's scarred face twisted in disbelief and barely compressed anger. "Are you saying that she overexerted herself resisting _you_?" He sounded disappointed, disgusted even.

 _No! That wasn't what he meant!_ "No," he said in his most assertive tone. "She had tried resisting me and failed. This was something else. Something was deliberately blocking her mind from me, and it wasn't her, as she is not force-sensitive. I suspect that it was another force entirely, someone else's doing."

Snoke leaned forward. "Explain," he rumbled, his voice having gone dangerously low.

Kylo inhaled slowly. Here it was. "Supreme Leader, I sense the influence of Luke Skywalker. I thought that I had recognized his imprint, but I wasn't certain at the time. Now, after some deliberation, I am convinced that this is his handiwork."

The Supreme Leader stared down at him for what felt like ages, and Kylo became aware of the cold sweat running down his back. Finally, Snoke said: "If what you say is true, bring her to me."


	8. Chapter 8

As it turned out, Moira waited a long time. She was combing through the datapad and holoprojector lying on the table when the same service droid that had brought her dinner last night eventually delivered her breakfast along with a message. It said that after Moira had finished eating and gotten ready, she was to be escorted to another meeting with the General. It scurried out after that, and it had almost seemed nervous. Moira couldn't help but wonder if news of the mutilation of the med droid by her hand had spread throughout the base's droid population.

She stared at the tray bearing her meal and considered ignoring it; it would at least be one small act of rebellion. However, her stomach had other plans, and Moira knew that her brother would otherwise force the food down her throat, so she gingerly lifted the lid and was assailed with aromas that made her mouth water and her stomach scream. It was over; she couldn't restrain herself any longer.

She attacked the food like a vicious animal, not even bothering to consider what she was eating. She barely even stopped to chew; it tasted so good. Eventually, when she began to slow down, so she picked up her plate and walked over to the window where she stood, finishing the rest of her meal and gazing out at the impossible landscape before her.

Setting the plate back down, she rummaged through her dresser some more and desperately wished that she had her own clothes back. In the end, she chose dark gray quilted leather leggings and a matching jacket with a black tank top underneath. It was comfortable, at least. She swept through her hair with a brush she found in one of the drawers and pulled it half up. Looking once more at her reflection, Moira searched for the resolve that she felt in her eyes, but all she could see was the haunted look in them, evidence of last night.

She was torn from her ruminations by a knock at the door; her guards were waiting. Gathering herself, Moira stole one more look out the window, and walked to the door, once again ready to meet her uncertain fate.

* * *

 

This time, she was led down a different hall that led to a solitary door that was grander than the others that she had seen. It opened to reveal an expansive office, complete with a small library, black lounge chairs not unlike the ones in Moira's room, and a formal and austere looking desk. Behind it was a wide window, and Moira's eyes immediately went to it, drinking in the new view. However, she was not the only one gazing attentively out of it.

"General," one of the troopers said, nudging her forward a bit.

General Hux turned from the window, blinking in surprise. "Remove her binders and wait outside; we should not be very long."

 _Oh, so I'm not worth your time then, huh?_ Moira thought, but said nothing. Instead, she allowed the stormtroopers to remove her binders and remained where she stood as they exited the office. Her brother had turned back towards the window, standing erect with his hands clasped behind his back.

They stood in silence until Hux, with his back still to her, gestured at one of the seats facing the desk. "Take a seat."

Moira shuffled over to the desk and eased herself into one of the chairs. She studied her brother thoughtfully. He seemed very tense; his jaw was set, his eyes were narrowed, and his fingers twitched.

"Rough morning?" Moira asked. She had meant to sound sarcastic, but either it didn't come off that way, or Hux just didn't notice.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. "There was a bit of a stressful meeting. I can only deal with so many imbeciles." He turned around to look at her. "And what of you? The droid informed me that when it initially came to deliver your breakfast, you had left last night's meal untouched, and you were still asleep…on the floor."

"I wasn't that hungry," she replied, shrugging her shoulders, "and I was that exhausted. How long was I asleep for?"

"At least twelve standard hours," Hux said. "I trust that you slept well then?"

Now that he was facing her, Moira was able to really look at her brother. She hadn't really gotten to do so yesterday; she had been too tired and angry. She'd only seen him recently on the HoloNet, described as one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy, identified as one of the members of the unofficial triumvirate that commanded the First Order. Moira had always suspected it ever since rumors of the First Order had begun to spread across the galaxy, and she knew for certain when one of the Black Sun's leaders and Moira's mentor, Ketsu Onyo, told her nearly eight years ago at their base of operations on Ord Mantell. She hadn't truly wanted to believe it, but it was difficult to argue with concrete evidence, especially when that evidence was a contract between the Black Sun and the First Order, finalized by the Hux family crest.

Her brother virtually looked the same as he did the last time Moira had seen him in the flesh fourteen years ago, yet older at the same time. It appeared that the years had been kind to him; he was still quite handsome; she could imagine the female officers that still swooned over him. There were new lines on his face though, and his eyes were different. They were the eyes of a prideful man who had seen much over the years.

"Not really," she admitted. "The nightmares didn't help much either."

He looked concerned. "Nightmares? Of what?"

"Kylo Ren," she said dismissively, "and…Father. Of what they both did to me. That's how I ended up on the floor." She shouldn't have brought it up; she should have stopped at Kylo Ren, but she felt like she had to say _something_ , especially after yesterday. She had not wanted to say anything more on the subject then, and she sensed that her brother had felt the same way. Perhaps this was why he wanted to meet with her again, so they could talk in private. What better way to bring it up than with this, to cut straight to the point?

She saw him flinch at her words. "Did you truly mean what you said, that you did not feel a thing when he died?" He sounded genuinely curious.

Moira shook her head. "Like I said, his death brought me neither satisfaction nor sorrow. I had hoped that witnessing his death would bring me some sort of closure, but I was wrong. I still dreamt of him." She paused, tilting her head. "You know what he did to me, right, Brendol?"

Was that regret or shame that flickered across his face? "Yes, I know exactly what he did to you, Moira. I first saw the marks and later heard the screams, and I made no effort to stop it." His voice was thick with some emotion that Moira could not identify. "I wasn't there when he did it, but I should have been. I'm-."

Moira silenced him with her hand. "Don't try to apologize; it's not worth your effort. He knew that you would try to intervene as you got older, so that's why he made efforts to keep you away when he did it. I remember that you were there once, when he decided to use me as an example. It served well." She remembered the hand around her arm, the crack of the hand across her face, and her brother's face, ashen and clearly distressed, as if physically pained by the scene before him. He had held her later that night as she cried, apologizing incessantly for not interfering.

It seemed that her brother was remembering the same thing, judging by his grimace. "While we had agreed on many things, I could not agree with what he did to you. There were other ways…" He shook his head. "It is in the past; he is gone, and for the longest time, I thought you were too."

Moira shook her head in disbelief. "Really? You think that low of the Republic, that they would kill children? If so, you are mistaken. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm aware that the First Order steals children. Father would be proud," she added flatly.

If Hux had been hurt, he didn't show it. "No," he said indignantly, "I knew that they wouldn't kill you, though I was prepared for them to use you as a bargaining chip. I meant after the terrorist attack on Chandrila." Moira closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She knew that this was going to come up eventually.

"So, you heard about that?" she asked, keeping her eyes closed.

"Of course," Hux said as smoothly as he could, but Moira detected the faint tremor in his voice. "It was all over the HoloNet. You were pronounced dead along with the others, Moira."

"Well, that was easy to do after the entire town square had been blown up," she replied sarcastically. "So, ta da, I'm not dead!" To add to the effect, she threw her arm up into the air as if she were a performer. Her brother was not amused in the slightest, so she quickly sobered back up. "But our aunt is, and so are our uncle and cousins," she added quietly. She would always remember that day as one of the days when her life had completely changed. Sometimes, she could still smell the smoke and blood and hear the screams and moans of the dying, but she did not know which attack they were from; both had ended the same way.

Hux looked away. "Did you love them?" he asked. He did not sound angry, just curious with a hint of resentment.

Surprised by his question, Moira found herself struggling to answer. "I, well, I only knew them for a year, but they _were_ family. I felt like they were the only family I had left at the time. They were good to me, even though they didn't know me too well. Aunt Delle looked a lot like Mother, but," Moira scoffed, "how would I know?"

"Well," her brother said disdainfully, "her husband was a senator, and that is what got them killed."

Moira stared at him, appalled. "How can you be so callous?" she hissed. "They were good people, _family_ , who took care of me when I had no one else! Yes, I did not know them that well, but I was beginning to accept them as family. I was finally starting to open up again; I was damaged, and I wanted to feel loved, but they were taken from me, all of them, leaving me alone again! I was by myself for days, injured and assumed dead. No one was looking for me; how do you even begin to search for someone who has been all but vaporized? That was how the Black Sun found me, broken, and, as I told you, they built me back up, they saved me. You never tried to do so, Brendol; you have no right to say these things, so don't!" Her voice had changed by the time she finished, slipping back into the prim and proper accent of the Imperials, something that she had struggled so hard to change. She was breathing heavily now, all self-control gone in the blink of an eye. Her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands, eliciting a sharp pain from them, and her eyes stung.

General Hux gaped at her, his expression torn between astonishment, shame, and fury, and he looked as if her were about to say something but thought better of it. Instead, he said: "I apologize. It was not my intention to appear insensitive. It is obvious that I do not understand what it feels like to suffer losses." His voice had become rather stiff and abruptly formal. The hardened mask of a general had been put back into place. "Before this meeting comes to an end, are there any questions that you may have?"

Moira, slightly taken aback by her brother's swift transformation, was momentarily at a loss for words. "Uh, where exactly is this place? What planet are we on?"

"The planet's name is irrelevant; it no longer exists. However, I can tell you that we are located in the Unknown Regions, far from the prying eyes of the Republic. How ironic, for you to end up back here where it all began."

Moira did not know if his words were meant to be poetic or unnecessarily cruel or maybe both, but she was still stung by them all the same.

Hux saw her face, and his own softened a bit. "Now, this conversation is finished," he said quietly. "You are dismissed." And with that, he stood back up and turned to face the window once more.

Moira frowned at his back, but stood and began to walk stiffly towards the door, where her guards would be waiting. Right before she moved to open it, she paused. "For the record, I will be getting out of here someday. I don't know when or how, but I will, and you won't be able to stop me."

He ignored her.

As she was led back to her room, Moira realized that she had forgotten to ask her brother the most important question, and she did not know if or when she would get the opportunity again.

* * *

 

As soon as the door had closed behind his sister, Armitage Hux's composure unraveled, and he pressed his forehead against the glass with a groan, his shoulders sagging. He had been harsh with his words, he would admit that, but also reasonable and candid. He had no reason to hide his resentment for the Republic and everyone who was part of it from Moira; she should have known better than to judge him. Oh, there was so much more that he could have told her, but he felt that he had disgusted her enough for one day. Sometimes the truth hurt too much.

He sat back down at his desk and stared into space. He should not have been surprised by Moira's outburst, as she had a reason to be angry, and he should not have felt guilty, but he did. He had not regretted his actions until he had heard who had been among the casualties. Everything that he had done afterwards had been efforts to staunch the guilt and grief; the more the bloodshed, the more hardened his heart had become. He had not thought twice about bombing the Black Sun's headquarters on Ord Mantell-one more threat removed. However, if he had known…gods, she could have been killed again.

 _But no_ , Hux thought bitterly, _I hadn't known. The damned Black Sun knew that they had her, and they purposely neglected to tell me. They had lied about more than just their loyalty._ Now, the attack felt even more justified than before. Hux was glad that they were dead, at least most of them anyways. His sister had survived, because that was what she was, a survivor. She had been one since her birth.

Her words echoed in his mind: _"I will be getting out of here someday. I don't know when or how, but I will, and you won't be able to stop me."_ He believed that she meant it, but he was not going to let that happen. He was never going to lose her again, which begged the question: what was he going to do with her? He could not keep her trapped in her room like a disobedient child forever.

A sudden noise from his com interrupted his thoughts, and he hurried to answer it. "Yes, what is it?" The call had come in through security.

"General, we are sending you the footage that you requested regarding the incident in the communications sector two days ago." Ah, yes, he had requested that. He wanted to see what had happened in its entirety, not just unreliable accounts from those who were still recovering in the med bay from broken bones or other traumatic injuries. He wanted to see what his sister was capable of- she had clearly changed so much over the past fourteen years.

Within seconds, a hologram appeared from the disk on his desk, and the footage began to play. Hux would be lying if he said that he was not horrified by what he saw in it. His sister was an unstoppable force, inescapable and devastating. One moment she was stumbling from delirium caused by blood loss, and the next she was leaping, flipping, and kicking all over the place. He saw her turn the blaster on him, and he realized that she hadn't recognized him then, and that made him feel slightly better about the situation. She had hesitated, he noticed.

He went back through it, watching her every move. The power, the speed, and the agility that she wielded, it was breathtaking and terrifying at the same time. If only their military could be trained to fight like that; they would be unstoppable. Then, it came to him. Turning off the holo, he immediately opened his direct line of contact to the command center.

"General?" came the voice of an anxious young man.

"Lieutenant Mitaka, contact Captain Phasma and instruct her to come to my office immediately."

"Yes, sir," Mitaka said, and Hux ended the connection. Now, all he had to do was wait.

* * *

 

Moira was bored out of her mind. She had already done her daily core workout until her arms shook and she was drenched with sweat. Gasping, she had collapsed to the ground; she must have still felt weak from her recent trauma and blood loss. Frustrated, she had stalked to the refresher to take a long shower, where she had spent half the time screaming. Wrapped in a towel, she exited the refresher just as the droid brought her another meal. This time, the sight of food made her sick. Glancing outside, she saw that it was almost dark. How long did the days last on this planet? It almost seemed like the sun itself was being drained.

She sat down and began to read another one of the novels, but she quickly began to lose interest. She hoped that she would find something more appealing on the holoprojector, but she was disappointed. It only had films that she had seen before. Moira needed to do something else, but she did not know what. She leaned her head back against the couch and stared up at the ceiling.

She began to mentally scold herself for letting her accent slip. She had worked for years to change it, to leave that part of her life behind. It sometimes came back when she became too emotional to think about it, but that was rare. She should have not lost control today, but her brother had gone too far. Why had he been so disdainful and hateful toward the people who had kept Moira safe for a year? Yes, they had been part of the Republic, but they were also family, the only family that Moira had after her father's execution and her brother's disappearance.

She remembered when she had first met her Aunt Delle, Uncle Rickard, and her cousins Anya and Symon. It had been two days after Commandant Hux's public execution on Hosnian Prime when Leia Organa, still a senator at the time, came to her with the news that her remaining family members had come for her. Moira had been confused; as far as she was concerned, she had no other family. Even though Moira never knew her mother, she knew that her mother had a younger sister, but her father had denounced her and her husband as traitors and said that they had died as such.

She had not questioned Leia, as she had trusted her completely; the woman had saved her life after all. She had been led to the entrance to the senator's apartment where her supposed family was waiting. The woman who was apparently her aunt had gasped when she saw Moira. _"You look just like your mother,"_ she had said, but Moira had only stared at her with distrust. A few more words had been exchanged between the adults, and then they left.

Things had been awkward at first. Her aunt and uncle had tried to make her comfortable at their home on Chandrila, but there was little else that they could do; the rest was up to Moira. She hadn't made it easy for anyone. She had been quiet and distant, and she did not speak unless she was spoken to. Her cousins made it difficult as well. Anya was her age, but all she cared about were boys and fashion, and Symon was nine, so he was just annoying. However, when Moira had a nightmare one night, her aunt had come into her room and just held her, comforting her the best she could. After that, things began to change. Moira began to open up more to her family. She began to talk to Anya and play with Symon. She began to ask her aunt about her mother, and instead of being reprimanded like she had been by her father, she was entertained with stories of her mother's childhood on Chandrila. Her mother had been beautiful, her aunt said, and she had shown Moira a picture, something which she had not seen before. Her aunt had been right; her mother was beautiful. Moira had kept the picture, but it was lost a year later. Since her uncle was the senator of Chandrila, he often made public appearances at events, and had decided to bring his family to one, the Festival of the Sun, Moira included. She remembered how the music and laughter soon gave way to screams and explosions.

Moira's eyes had begun to sting, but she did not know if it was from intently staring at the ceiling or from unshed tears. What was it with her and crying lately? She had not cried since Ord Mantell had been invaded by the First Order, who had decimated her new home and family. It was her brother's fault; he killed them all. _No_ , a voice whispered, _it was your fault, it had to have been, just like your mother's death._ Anger swelled in Moira's chest, and with a shout, she lurched up, grabbed the tray of food, and hurled it across the room, just as the door slid open.

Moira leapt to her feet, staring in shock at Lieutenant Shryner, who stood just as shocked in the doorway. "I do hope that that was not directed at me," he said rather calmly.

Heat flared in Moira's cheeks as she suddenly remembered that she was practically naked, and she clutched the towel closer to her chest. "Wh-what in the nine hells are _you_ doing here? Get out!" she snapped. She craned her head to try to see the guards outside, but saw no one. That could not be a good sign.

As if reading her thoughts, Shryner smiled deviously as he closed the door behind him. "Do not worry about your guards. I dismissed them for the time being." _What?_

"You-you can't do that. They are under strict orders to-."

"Despite what you may believe, I do hold some authority around here."

"Not for long. If my brother finds out that you were here-."

Shryner raised an eyebrow "If? You do not plan on telling him?"

Moira grit her teeth. "I will if you don't leave right now." What was he doing? What did he want?

The smirk spread across his face. "No, you won't, because you see, you were right." He was slowly getting closer, and Moira began to back away in response.

"Right about what?" she asked. The blood was roaring in her ears, and she was ready to go in the defensive in any second.

"About coming back for more. You are so infuriating that I want to hurt you, but you like to get rough, don't you?" _Oh_. He was even closer now, so close that Moira could see how dark his eyes had become as well as the hunger in them, and soon, Moira's back was against the wall.

"Don't you dare touch me, or I swear that I will do more than spit in your face." Her breathing was becoming shallow as she stared defiantly into his eyes. This was not the first time she had dealt with something like this. However, she could feel the heat inexplicably beginning to pool in her lower body, and she nearly recoiled in horror. Not now, not with _him_ of all people.

"Oh, I believe you," Shryner said, his voice low and gruff," but I simply do not care." His hand had reached for the towel wrapped around her, and Moira swatted his hand away.

"Stop it. Now." He was standing over her now, so she stared up at him, trying to send as much hatred and detestation as she could across. She wanted him to know that no matter what he did with her, she would not make it easy for him.

"I have a feeling that you do not want me to, that you want this as well." The horrible truth was that she did, in a twisted sort of way. She _was_ bored, and it had felt like ages since she had last had a one night stand. She realized that this was that 'something else' that she needed to do, even if it was with the least desirable person on this base, well, perhaps second to Kylo Ren, and at least this would be a better alternative to killing him. Besides, what reputation did she have left to lose?

She glared at him. "I utterly despise you," she snapped as she snaked her arms around his neck, removing his hat.

"The feeling is mutual, my dear," he growled, and then his lips were on hers in an angry and sloppy frenzy. She then felt the towel slip free.

"I am going to make you pay for this," she gasped indignantly in between kisses before biting down on his lip hard, making him grunt in pain.

For once, she had no nightmares that night, but her new mantra still ran through her head. _Just survive somehow._

* * *

 

Moira woke up feeling terrible. Her body hurt all over due to the bruises on her arms and lower body. Unsurprisingly, she was alone. She was satisfied by last night's events, but she had taken no joy in them either. The only thing that she could take comfort in was the fact that she was not the only one who was left with marks. _I told him that he would pay._ She began to giggle hysterically, imagining the lieutenant struggling to hide the marks on his neck from the rest of the base. With renewed pride, she pushed herself out of bed and got a shower, scrubbing till every inch of her skin became red and raw in order to rid herself of his touch.

Afterwards, she stripped her bed and piled the soiled sheets on the floor for the service droid to take care of. One good thing about service droids was that they rarely asked questions. She found herself wondering how many more of the male personnel she could possibly entertain herself with when the droid entered, but without breakfast. That was strange. "Your presence has been requested immediately, Miss Hux. Do not delay." And with that, it left.

* * *

 

Moira felt anxious. Was this just another meeting with her brother? It could not have been, for she would not have been this rushed, but perhaps he was still displeased with her. Moira didn't think that was it. What else could she have done wrong now, unless the general had found out about last night? If so, she wasn't worried; she was prepared to handle those types of conversations. What she wasn't prepared for was walking into a rather large meeting during an intense argument.

"-cannot trust her! She is dangerous and unpredictable! What's more-." Kylo Ren abruptly broke off and whipped his head in Moira's direction, and everyone else's followed suit. Moira wasn't looking at them, however, or even her brother. She was looking directly at Ren, who held her in what felt like a scrutinizing gaze, and she tried not to break eye contact. _Let him look me over, let him judge me. I could care less._ If that was the case, then why did she want to turn around and run? Everything about him screamed danger and…hatred? Could no one else feel it, the hatred that emanated from him, nearly palpable? Maybe they couldn't, but Moira did, and it was overwhelming. The worst part was that she felt it being aimed directly at her, and she was as terrified as she was confused. She actually slouched in relief when he looked away turned back to Hux, and said: "If you will excuse me, General." He didn't wait for a response, striding around the table and towards the door, right towards Moira. She immediately tensed up, waiting, but he did not acknowledge her this time. Instead, he simply brushed past her and out of the room, his entire body taut with barely repressed rage.

Now that he was gone, the entire room seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief, and she saw some men visibly relax. She recognized the room as the one she had formally reunited with her brother in, but this time, all of the seats were occupied save for one, to which she was directed to sit in. All eyes were on her as she sat, and she wanted to do nothing more than disappear. "So," she said as amiably as she could, "I do hope that I was not interrupting anything." She heard a few chuckles in response; that was a good sign, maybe. As she gazed around the table, she noticed that many of these men were high ranking officers, and she knew that this was definitely a very important meeting. Although she did not recognize most of them, much to her disgust, she saw Lieutenant Shryner sitting next to some captain. It took all of her willpower to not laugh or glare daggers at him.

"Moira," came her brother's voice, formal and businesslike, "this is Captain Phasma, commander of the stormtrooper forces." He turned towards the individual who stepped forward - a Stormtrooper whose armor was made out of chrome, completed with a black and red cape. They carried themselves with what Moira immediately recognized as the air of authority, someone who deserved and demanded respect. "Evidently, she expects her troops to be the best they can possible be, which brings us to the topic of this meeting: you."

Moira frowned. "Me? What do I have to do with the efficiency of _your_ soldiers?" Moreover, she was shocked by the revelation that the military commander standing in front of her was a woman. She would have never suspected it, but she knew that that was intended. She did not know whether to feel respect or intimidation for the woman standing before her, but she had larger things to worry about.

This time, Phasma spoke. Her voice, while feminine, was crisp, imposing, and straight to the point. " _This_ ," she said, reaching down to press a button on the table, "should speak for itself." A hologram appeared, and it took Moira a few seconds to realize that she was looking at footage of herself. She was almost unrecognizable, clad in a hospital gown, hair wet from the bacta tank and sweat, blood dripping from her arm. Her face was the most disturbing though—her eyes were wild with a fury unlike anything Moira had ever seen. They were bulging out from her pale, taut face, burning with an intensity fueled by hate. Moira had never been scared of herself until now. She watched with fascination as the woman in the holo kicked, punched, and flipped her way through opponents, taking down anyone who stood in her way.

She sensed the discomfort of the others in the room. They had obviously seen the footage earlier, but the fact that the perpetrator of those actions was now in the same room as them made them nervous. Moira felt the wary glances being sent in her direction, and she turned to meet some, smirking when they quickly looked away. When the footage finally stopped, Moira looked up at Phasma. " _This_ just tells me what I already know," she said nonchalantly. "I am more than capable of single-handedly taking down a room full of armed and unarmed men and women, and I'm certain that I could have done a lot more damage had I not been debilitated." The truth was, Moira did not remember much about those specific events. She just knew that she had been in a state of confusion due to the blood loss from her arm, and she had lost all control upon seeing that one man that had put her in that situation in the first place. However, Moira knew what she could do, and that little performance was no exception.

"I am quite sure of that as well, which makes it all the more impressive," replied Phasma, ignoring the anxious murmurs that filled the room. "Miss Hux, I oversee the training of the First Order's military and the stormtrooper ranks in particular. I seek to have only the best soldiers don the First Order's Stormtrooper armor, and in order for that to happen, they need to have the best training that there is. I am here to give you the opportunity to be a part of this training, to offer you the position of a personal trainer, someone to instruct promising cadets in the ways of unarmed combat with the aim of creating some of the finest troops to ever serve the First Order." She said those words with so much passion and determination that Moira, caught up in the moment, nearly overlooked what was just said.

When Phasma's words finally registered, Moira jolted forward and up, backing away from the table. "Wait, no, just no. Stop right there," she said sternly, shaking her head. "How-why? What makes any of you think that I would want do this, hm? What makes any of you think that I would agree to forget about the past and join you? What makes you think that I would want become one of _you_?" She made a point to look at Hux as she said those last few words, hoping to drive the point home. "I would never join you, not in a million years. Not after what you've done to others and to me. Not for what you will do. I am sorry Captain, but I want no part in your army, and I certainly want no part in training them. To me, that clearly sounds like aiding the enemy, which is something that I don't do, family or not. I will not become part of the First Order, not ever. If the alternative is death, then so be it. I would rather die than acquiesce to the likes of you." Her accent began to slip out again, but this time, she did not even try to hide it; she no longer cared at the moment.

Her declaration was met with a few seconds of stunned silence before her brother spoke up. "No. You are not going to die, Moira, but neither are you about to spend your days in solitary confinement-."

"Then let me go. Please," she hissed. She already knew the answer, but she could not help it.

"You know that I cannot just do that. Please take into consideration what is being offered! Before your arrival, we had all come to an agreement on this. Everyone thinks that your expertise would be advantageous-."

"For you, not me," Moira interrupted. "No matter what, I would still be your prisoner, in one way or another. Besides the fact, were you not listening to me? Did you honestly think that I would consider your offer? Did you think that I would readily drop all of my ideals, all of my principles, because you are my brother? If so, then you are sorely mistaken. We may be family, but that small detail alone does not even begin to make up for what I have been through these past several years. It does not outweigh what your precious First Order has inflicted on me and countless innocents. I will not give in, I will not let our father win!" She had not really meant to say that last part out loud, but it happened anyway. Having spent the rest of her anger and energy into those last few sentences, Moira collapsed back into her chair and closed her eyes. No one said a word.

"Moira," Hux said gently, "I am not forcing you to join the First Order. The decision is yours alone. I am just trying to help you keep your sanity."

Moira had to scoff at that. "I hate to tell you this, but I think I lost that years ago." She opened one eye. Her brother's expression was beseeching. She sighed. "If I may ask, what would this job do for me? What personal gain would I receive? Hopefully not a position among your ranks." She saw a spark of hope in his eyes.

"You would eventually receive access to most of the facilities on this base, accompanied, of course. You would not receive an official title in the ranks, for as I said, that will be up to you. You will still be treated with the respect and dignity worthy of any member of the First Order. This is just a few of the many opportunities you shall earn over time."

Moira began to think. Her first instinct was to not trust him. If she agreed to this, she could still be selling her soul to the First Order. However, she had become quite skilled in reading people, and she could sense her brother's candor. He was telling the truth. However…

"I'm dangerous, remember? I've killed people. Your soldiers, no doubt," she said, looking at Phasma. "Would you really trust me to train your men?"

Phasma inclined her head. "Yes, unless you give me a worthy reason not to, which I assure you, will be addressed immediately."

Moira nodded. "Fair enough, I suppose. So, everyone here has apparently agreed to this? I find that difficult to believe, considering the heated argument that I had entered upon."

Her brother scowled with disdain. "Kylo Ren's opinions are irrelevant to me. He has no real say in this. As for you, what do you say?"

Moira closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. This might be considered treason to the Resistance, if they ever found out, but it wasn't. Moira would be simply helping to train people who would fight for the First Order; she would not be fighting for the First Order herself. She would not break for them. She still hated them with all of her heart. She would never bear their insignia ever again _. Just survive somehow._ Well, just like last night, this would be the only way of surviving. _Plus, I might be able to get information about this place, I might learn a few important things, and when I escape, I'll be able to tell the Resistance._ She was still planning on a second attempt at escape, but she knew that it would not happen right away. She just had to be patient.

She slowly opened her eyes to stare her brother down. "If I do this," she said slowly, "I will not be bending the knee; I will not be pledging my allegiance to the First Order, I will not become your slave. Do you understand me?" He nodded almost eagerly, and she continued. "Second, I demand that all of my belongings be returned to me; I mean everything, including my weapons. If you can't agree with that, then we have no deal." _I'm making the demands here, not them_ , she reminded herself.

Hux hesitated. "How about everything except your blasters. Those will be returned in due time, when I can trust you."

Moira pressed her lips together. She would gladly take her tonfas back, but she would miss her blasters. How long was her brother talking when it came until she was trustworthy enough? However, she was not about to protest. She nodded. "Alright, I expect everything to be in my room upon my return. So, when do I start?"

There was a noise of disbelief from one end of the table. "So that's just it? We let her go free, to strut around the base like she owns it? We are going to let her train our soldiers, whose heads may be filled with lies told by her? Lord Ren is right; we cannot trust her."

Moira plastered on a pleasant smile and turned to face Lieutenant Shryner. "Lieutenant," she said, just as pleasantly, "I can assure you that I will not fill your soldiers' heads with the truth, but you are right- you cannot trust me, but when can we ever trust one another?"

Shryner narrowed his eyes at her. "We all can agree that you do not belong here. I may not have the authority to-."

"That's not what you said last night, Lieutenant," Moria said with a smirk. "If I remember correctly, you had enough authority to enter my quarters unannounced and unwelcome." All heads turned towards Shryner, who went pale. She saw the surprise give way to embarrassment, and then to anger.

He quickly turned towards General Hux, who looked both shocked and confused at the same time. "General," he began hastily, "she lies! I have no idea what-!"

The door slid open to reveal a shaken young man in uniform, another lieutenant, Moira noted. "Lieutenant Mitaka," Hux said in a strained voice, "what is it this time?" For a second or two, the man said nothing, his eyes darting around the room nervously, and he wet his lips. Hux, his patience finally stretching thin, snapped. "Well, spit it out will you?" he barked, making the poor man flinch.

"General," he finally began in a trembling voice, removing his hat, "I apologize for the intrusion, but there is a situation in the Command Center. It, ah, concerns Kylo Ren." At his words, a change came over those gathered there. A few men sighed in what sounded like annoyance, some groaned, and others looked fearful. Phasma obviously showed no visible reaction, and General Hux was one of the ones who appeared annoyed, exasperated even.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. "I swear that this man will destroy this base before it is fully operational," he muttered and then looked up. "This meeting is over. Return to your positions. Lieutenant Shryner," he said austerely, "wait for me in my office." Shryner froze where he was rising from his chair, and there was a flash of fear across his face.

"Y-Yes, sir," he stammered before following the others out of the room. Moira snorted and also stood.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Kylo Ren is what happened," Hux groaned, steering her towards the door, where the Stormtroopers were still waiting. "Take her back to her room at once, and do try to avoid the Command Center," he instructed them. He turned to face Moira. "Once I have sorted out this problem, I shall be sending for you again. It is time that you receive a proper tour of Starkiller Base, as it is to be your home for some time. Oh, and Moira?"

Moira, who had been lost in her own fantasies of what had occurred in the Command Center, turned to look up at him.

"You will learn to make this your home; in time, you will join us."

Before Moira could even come back with an equally ominous threat, her brother turned to face Lieutenant Mitaka, who stood at attention off to the side. "Lead the way, Lieutenant."

Moira watched them leave and turned back to her guards. She grinned brightly at them and held out her hands. "You heard him," and in her best impersonation of her brother, said: "Lead the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some quick facts:  
> The Black Sun Crime Syndicate is canon in the Star Wars universe; they were first introduced in the Clone Wars TV show, so they are real.  
> Ketsu Onyo is also a real character that was introduced in the new animated show Star Wars: Rebels (it's a really good show) and was established as a member of the Black Sun.  
> Tumblr: fngrl-2187


	9. Chapter 9

_What had she done? What was she thinking? What was wrong with her?_ These were the thoughts that occupied Moira's mind as she paced the length of her room over and over again. She had lost track of time, but that was irrelevant compared to the current turmoil in her mind. She had agreed to help train the First Order's military, especially Stormtroopers, _killers_ , and for what, just to save her own ass? The idea had sounded sensible at the time, but now Moira regretted it. _Screw doing whatever it takes to survive, you are practically fraternizing with the enemy now!_ She was going to be sick.

Moira clutched her head in frustration and resisted the urge to slam it repeatedly against a wall. She was such a moof-milker! Why she would think that consenting to this would improve her situation was beyond her. How was this going to help her stay alive in the long run? For all she knew, she could be finding herself on the frontlines, fighting for a cause that she did not believe in but doing it anyway because it would help her "stay alive." How long could she keep feeding herself this garbage? What was she truly hoping to gain from all of this?

She then paused to look out the window, feeling that familiar longing and hope rise within her, and she quickly shoved those feelings down with annoyance. No, this had better not be what she was hoping to gain. She hadn't forgotten that same feeling of hope that had appeared when her brother said that she would eventually gain access to most of the base. She had to restrain herself from asking if that included the outside. If this was why she had really agreed to help, then she hated herself even more. _No_ , she reminded herself, _I can help the Resistance this way, somehow. I will get out of here, and when I do, I will go straight to Leia and tell her-._

She spun sharply on her heels when the door slid open, revealing her Stormtrooper guards. "What?" she snapped. "What do you want?" _Can't you see that I am in the middle of a pity party for myself?_

The soldiers, impassive as always, informed her that the General was ready for her now. "Oh yes," Moira remarked scathingly, "it's only when _he's_ ready, not the other way around." There was no comment; the soldiers merely stepped aside, waiting for her to walk through. "What, no binders this time?" she asked.

"The General has decided that binders are no longer needed; you will not be escaping anytime soon, he said."

Moira raised her eyebrows. "Oh, did he now? I was hoping to hear that he now trusts me completely, but I suppose that it's not going to be that easy, and we never truly get what we want, right?"

She could sense that underneath their helmets, they were rolling their eyes now. It was strange, she could almost _feel_ their annoyance. Moira had always been excellent at reading people, usually based on their body language, but this felt a little different, and she did not know why. It was almost as if she felt annoyed herself, but she had no real reason to be- those were not _her_ emotions.

"The General no longer finds it necessary for you to be restrained everywhere you go. He is being generous; you would be advised against resisting. We will be forced to restrain you otherwise."

Moira almost smiled at that. "I'm not about to object to this; in fact, I am grateful. It'll be much easier to bash your heads in." She watched them shift a little where they stood, and she smiled. "I'm joking, you two. Training hasn't begun yet."

With that said, she quickly brushed past them and into the hall and started down it. She slowed when she realized that she was not being followed, and she turned around to face her guards who were frozen in place. Once again, she had feelings that weren't hers: fear and trepidation, but they were gone as quickly as they had arrived.

"Well, are you coming or not? I really have no idea where I'm going, and I don't think that any of us wants to keep the General waiting, am I correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," they said, much to her surprise. They hurried towards her and took their places beside her, leading the way. Moira could not help the wild grin that spread across her face when she was able to swing her arms about freely, but she did not think that her escorts or anyone else that they passed felt the same way.

* * *

 

General Hux was waiting for them in what appeared to be the Command Center, and the first thing that Moira noticed was the pair of technicians making what looked like ordinary repairs to a damaged piece of equipment. However, upon further inspection, Moira saw what looked like gouges in the metal, as if it had been violently slashed multiple times, but by what, Moira had no idea. It had to have been by something hot, for wherever the lacerations had been made, the metal had melted. Severed wires sparked, and monitors smoked. Whatever— _whoever_ \- had done this must have been in an intense fit of rage.

" _That_ is what happens when Lord Ren gets angry; you'd best stay out of his way when that happens," one of the troopers commented nonchalantly, as if this was an everyday occurrence. What was even more disconcerting was how everyone else in the room carried on with their business, completely ignoring the demolished piece of machinery nearby.

"Oh. What kinds of stuff does he get angry at?"

"Anything that does not go his way," answered Hux, striding towards them. "It is quite obvious that Ren was not happy about our arrangement."

"What?" Moira asked, startled. "Are you saying that this is _my_ fault? He did _that_ because of _me_?" She knew that Kylo Ren wasn't pleased about her future here on this base; that had been evident from his behavior at the meeting, but she did not think that he was _that_ mad about it. Did he really hate her that much? She barely knew the guy, and if anything, she was the one who deserved to hate _him_ , not the other way around. What could she have possibly done to make him dislike her? She now felt even more apprehensive about him than she had before. She now knew that those gashes in the metal were undoubtedly made by a lightsaber, so what would happen the next time Ren got angry and she happened to be in the same room? She did not want to think about that.

"No, it's not your doing. Ren can just not manage his anger. He throws child-like tantrums over the pettiest incidents. He was merely upset that he had not been notified of the decision before the conference and that his opinion had been trumped by me and Phasma; he does take those kinds of affronts well. His inability to handle disappointment is not your fault, but I would go out of my way to avoid him for the time being, if I were you. If you could not tell, he does not exactly approve of my and Phasma's plans for you."

Moira was shocked at how easy it was for her brother to speak so low of Kylo Ren, to speak of him with such disdain—was he not afraid of him like everyone else clearly was, or did he simply detest him that much? She had not missed the nearly palpable tension that was between the two, and she had only seen them in the same room twice. She sensed that there was some kind of power struggle, but it was impossible to determine the frontrunner.

"Where is he right now?" She unconsciously glanced around the room and over her shoulder, expecting the dark specter to appear behind her at any given moment.

"Most likely off venting somewhere else, which I am sure I will find out about sooner or later. I had managed to remove him from this area, risking possible decapitation, before he could cause further damage. Really, this is nothing you should concern yourself with, as it happens once or twice a month here. Just do not provoke his wrath; I am afraid that I will not be able to protect you then."

"Well," Moira scoffed, "thanks for that. So," she said, looking around the room again, "this is obviously the command center then?" Her gaze was now fixed upon the vast window taking up almost all of the wall before her. Distracted, she did not hear her the general's response, but she allowed herself to be guided around the room, observing everything in it. She did not pay much attention to what was being said; the only words that she clung to were the ones describing the planetary shield that was strong enough to deflect any attack and could not be penetrated by a ship traveling at sublight speeds. Did it prevent anything unauthorized from leaving as well? Judging from her brother's almost smug tone, Moira saw no other reason she was being told this information.

People stared whenever they passed by, mostly at Moira. She caught a few in the act of stealing brief glances in her direction, and they would quickly turn away when they realized that they had been caught. She could see the curiosity in their eyes, but also the mistrust, and in some, barely concealed contempt. She knew that no one here trusted her; they had to know what she had done on Ord Mantell and here. To them, she was a stranger, an outsider, the enemy. They would rather see her in a cell or on the chopping block. _"She believes that because she is the general's sister she is now innocent. Does she honestly think that she is important enough to have some kind of power over us? She has no right to strut around like that."_ The thoughts were clear as day in Moira's head, but they weren't her own. The voice in her head was male and full of so much scorn that it made Moira physically recoil with a gasp.

Hux turned back to her with a look of surprise and concern. "Are you alright?" he asked upon seeing her wide eyes.

"Did you hear that?" Moira asked in a hushed voice, not wanting to draw too much attention to the scene.

Her brother's eyebrows knit in confusion. "Hear what?" he asked. His expression alone was enough to answer Moira's question.

Her heart leapt to her throat and a cold sweat began to condense on the back of her neck. Her eyes darted around the room, desperately searching for the source of the voice but finding nothing. _That's it, I'm really losing it now_ , she thought. _I'm hearing voices; that's one of the first signs of psychosis._ She began to force herself to take deep, calming breaths, inhaling slowly through the nose and exhaling just as slowly out the mouth. _I am just being paranoid_ , she told herself. _I'm thinking that everyone's out to get me now._

"What is it, Moira?" Hux asked again, sounding worried yet impatient all at once.

"It-it's nothing. Never mind," she replied, giving a shaky laugh. "I'm just a little jumpy, that's all." It wasn't a complete lie, at least.

General Hux did not look that convinced, but with a shrug and a shake of his head, continued onward.

The rest of the tour consisted of a brief glimpse into the numerous ship hangars filled with ships and vehicles so advanced that Moira had never seen the likes of them before, and what Moira quickly learned to be the limits to her "freedom" on this base. Besides her room, these included the cafeteria, med bay, Hux's office (restricted hours, of course), the conference room (more restricted hours), and lastly, the training facility, which would be Moira's own office of sorts. At first glance, it was impressive, to say the least, almost rivaling that of the Black Sun's back on Ord Mantell.

"Feel free to remain here to become used to this new setting; you will be here often. As for me, I must be getting back to my office. I believe that a certain lieutenant is waiting for me." He pointedly looked at Moira, who just raised her eyebrows in an innocent expression.

"I would spend some time here preparing if I were you. You start tomorrow." And with that, he was gone, leaving no room for Moira to protest. _Asshole_.

She turned to look out on the room again. It was quite deep, the high ceilings allowing the slightest noise to echo throughout the area even though there was no one else there. Along the walls of stone and metal lay different weight machines and other kinds of equipment. The center of the room was made up of training mats and different weapons stations. The place smelled of metal and sweat, just how Moira liked it.

She turned back to her guards and instructed them to wait outside while she got to work; she had a feeling that it was going to be a long evening. When she finally did make it back to her room, Moira was pleased to find her bodysuit folded neatly on her bed along with her scarf, goggles, utility belt, and tonfas. "Hello, lovelies," she murmured, picking up her batons and kissing them individually. "I've missed you." She placed her clothes on the dresser and her tonfas under her pillows; she'd learnt to sleep with weapons over the years.

Unsurprisingly, sleep eluded her that night. Tomorrow, her new life on Starkiller Base would officially begin, whether she wanted it to or not. She already had a reputation here, a bad one, but she did not give a damn. She was not about to start with a clean slate because she simply did not need to, nor did she even want to. Still, anxiety and guilt gnawed away at her insides. She knew that she was going to be assessed tomorrow, her every move watched and scrutinized. She had expectations and standards to meet. One misstep could cost her freedom, however limited it was. Moira still could not get over the fact that she was helping to train Stormtroopers, to shape them into a fighting force that would terrorize the galaxy. _Father would be so proud_ , she thought bitterly. Training elite Stormtroopers had been her father's specialty, and her brother had also taken up that philosophy. Moira would be the one implementing it.

* * *

 

At least several hours later, Moira found herself standing next to Captain Phasma, facing a row of seven Stormtrooper cadets, the FN Corps, she recalled Phasma saying. They were one the newest units to be inducted into the First Order, and according to Phasma, the most promising. Right now, Moira did not think so. Without the classic plastoid armor, these Stormtrooper wannabes did not look as intimidating. They looked young, perhaps around Moira's age. They stood at attention before her, dressed all in black, much like Moira, who wore a tank top instead of a long sleeved shirt. Her cargo pants fit snugly around her waist, and her combat boots reached her knees. She spotted one cadet staring at her, his hazel eyes scanning her up and down. _Do you like what you see?_

"…you are expected to obey Miss Hux with the same respect you give me. She possesses valuable skills that may someday be useful to you in battle," Phasma was saying when Moira tuned back into her lecture. "Am I understood?"

"Yes, Captain!" the men responded, saluting their commander, who turned to Moira.

"I shall remain here to observe the first few sessions if you are in need of assistance, but soon, you will be on your own."

Moira nodded her head. "I understand. Can I start now?"

Phasma nodded. "One more thing: be mindful of FN-2187," she said, jerking her head in the direction of a dark skinned male cadet. "He is the most compassionate of his unit; he will hold back. Make sure that that does not happen. Beat him bloody if that is what it takes to make him retaliate."

Moira raised her eyebrows but only nodded. "I...will see to that, Captain."

"And I will hold you to your word. You may begin Miss Hux; do not disappoint me." With that said, Phasma strode to the side of the room and stood still facing them.

Moira took a deep breath and placed her hands on her hips. She had never really taught a self-defense class before, as she was never given the opportunity to do so. However, she did know how Stormtroopers were trained.

"Alright, I'm not about to repeat what Phasma said, but here it is: respect. That is all I want from you men. I know that I have done nothing to earn even an ounce of respect from you as a person, but I still expect you to show me proper deference as an instructor." She paused. "You can start by making eye contact with me instead of my chest, FN-2003," she said with a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Immediately, those hazel eyes darted up to meet her gaze, wide with alarm. FN-2003's face went even paler than it already was and then became flushed with crimson as a few of his squadmates began to laugh.

"I apologize for Slip- I mean FN-2003 here; you see, he's always, well, slipping up on things," said another trooper, FN-417, she remembered from Phasma's introduction.

"Well, who could blame him for looking, really?" Moira asked innocently, shrugging her shoulders. "It doesn't happen too often around here for you boys, does it, to come this close in contact with a pretty, young woman."

"Neither does it happen to often that we are instructed by a terrorist," muttered the red-haired cadet who had been staring at Moira coldly ever since she entered the room. FN-2187, who was standing at his right, looked at him in alarm, but Moira did not notice, as her attention was now fixed solely on the cadet.

"Excuse me, what did you say? I didn't quite catch that." Folding her arms across her chest, she went to stand before the trooper.

"What I meant to say is that you were right about having done nothing to deserve our respect. If anything, you deserve death."

"FN-2199, that is enough from you," began Phasma, stepping forward, but Moira calmly held up a hand to stop her and turned back to face the cadet whose glare had not wavered.

"What seems to be the matter soldier? Was it something I said? Tell me."

FN-2199 scowled at her. "I will not take orders from a _rebel_ ," he said in a disgusted tone.

Moira raised her eyebrows. "A rebel? What makes you say that?"

"What you did on Ord Mantell is no secret. Everyone here knows that you are with the Resistance. You are an enemy of the First Order; you _deserve_ to be treated as such."

"Ah," Moira sighed, "so _that's_ it. You believe that because I shot up some of your soldiers, I am automatically a rebel. News flash, I don't work for the Resistance; they just hired me. Besides, not everyone who will shoot at you is part of the Resistance, but I'm not allowed to talk about that," she added in a low voice.

"You killed loyal men-," he began with a snarl.

"Who have also killed, if I am not mistaken. You see, it's all from a certain point of view." She tilted her head to the side. "So tell me, FN-2199, who is the real enemy here?" She was met with stubborn silence, so she stepped back onto one of the mats laid out on the floor. "Come, FN-2199, join me. Everyone else, gather around."

The other cadets stood around the perimeter of the mat while FN-2199 all but swaggered into the ring to stand before her.

"Alright," she began, facing the others, "the most important rule of fighting is-."

"To never take your eyes off of your opponent," FN-2199 quipped from behind her, and lunged forward.

Moira whirled around and grabbed the trooper's fist, stopping it mid-punch. Before FN-2199 even knew what was happening, Moira violently twisted his arm, and as she did so, flipped up into the air, wrapping her legs around his neck, and flipped him forward onto the ground. Moira landed on her side, pinning down the arm that he had tried to punch her with, her legs still wrapped around his throat in a chokehold.

The reaction was immediate. A few of the cadets actually cried out, backing away from the mat, one actually yelling "Oh, my _gods_!" The others just sucked in a breath and winced. FN-2199, on the other hand, began to flail, hitting her leg and the mat in desperation. All it would take was a squeeze and a twist of her hips, and he would be…"

"Dead," she announced matter-of-factly before releasing him. He rolled away and staggered to his feet, gasping for breath, his eyes as round as small planets. Moira stood slowly and faced her class. They were deathly quiet, and she could see the fear that was now in their eyes, but also admiration. They were impressed, she could tell. "Actually," she began, "I was going to say 'be prepared for anything,' but thank you for providing an example, FN-2199."

Now that she had their undivided attention, she decided to drive her point home.

"Look, I know that I deserve death, alright? There are some days that I even wish I were dead, but as it stands, I'm still here," she began quietly. "I also know that I don't even have a rank, so why should you listen to me? Well, here's why: I've seen shit, more shit than you've ever had to clean up here before you got to where you are now. I learned how to properly snap a grown man's neck when I was fourteen years old, what did you do when you were that age, wipe the floors? I would have wiped the floor with your asses, just as I did now. So sure, go ahead and hate me for all I care, but you will _listen_ to whatever I say and _do_ whatever I say. Got it?" she shouted.

"Yes, ma'am!" they all shouted in turn, while FN-2199 remained stunned silent.

"Good," she said smiling. "Let's begin, shall we?"

* * *

 

General Hux turned away from the window of the suite overlooking the training room, a triumphant smirk on his face. "What was it you called her two weeks ago, Ren? 'Damaged goods?'"

He did not need the Force or whatever it was called to sense the annoyance and anger projected towards him by the cloaked figure, but he did not care. He felt like he had scored a victory over the Knight of Ren however small it might have been. He and Phasma had made a wise decision, one that Kylo Ren could no longer disagree with.

"I would not be so sure of yourself, General. She is still volatile…and vocal," Ren responded, still staring out the window.

Hux frowned. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

The Knight was still turned away from him. "Her thoughts, they are very loud. And," he added, "often angry." He sounded contemplative.

Hux felt his own anger rise from within. "Are you reading her mind? How-how dare you?" he spluttered. "You have no right-!"

"I do not need to," Kylo interrupted. "Her thoughts penetrate my mind on their own."

Hux frowned at this. "How is that possible?"

At this, Kylo finally turned to face him. "General," he began "your sister may be even more useful to us than you originally thought."


	10. Chapter 10

Captain Phasma had stopped coming after the third day, but that did not prompt Moira to ease up on her class; in fact, she pushed them even harder. On the first day, she had started with proper defense stances, including how to position the arms and legs, then to basic punching drills. _"Forget everything you think you know about punching,"_ she had told them. _"I am here to teach you how to ensure a knockout almost every time."_

When it came time for them to practice blocking techniques on one another, Moira, remembering Phasma's warning, paired herself with FN-2187. She did not miss the flash of fear in his eyes when she beckoned him towards her. "Seeing how there is an uneven amount, it looks like you're going to be my partner from here on out," she told him. After a couple days, she noticed that he appeared distracted, uncertain even, which prompted her to ask softly: "Is there a problem, cadet?" She had meant to sound stern, but whenever she looked into those wide dark brown eyes, she just could not find it within herself to be severe with him.

Embarrassed, he hurried to explain himself. "No, of course not, ma'am, but-but wouldn't it make more sense for Slips, I mean FN-2003, to be paired with you? He's the one that struggles the most in this squadron, so I think that it would be really helpful to him if he worked with you. Please don't take this the wrong way, I'm just trying to look out for my squadmates and their best interests. We're a unit, you know. We've been together for a long time and have helped each other get through the different levels of our training and-well, I'd hate to have us be separated after coming such a long way. FN-2003 works hard, he tries, and I know that he might not look like much, but-." He fell silent when Moira held her hand up.

"Hey, slow down, cadet. You're starting to sound like a faulty protocol droid. Breathe."

The young man hung his head in embarrassment, expecting to be further reprimanded, so he nearly jumped when Moira laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked back up, blinking in surprise. Moira smiled gently at him, the first genuine smile that she had produced during her stay here on Starkiller Base. Captain Phasma was right; he _was_ compassionate and, Moira could tell, gentlehearted, but was that really a bad thing? According to her father and now the First Order, Stormtroopers should feel nothing but loyalty to the Empire and to the Empire alone. There was to be no room for compassion among the soldiers, no strong feelings of comradeship, no attachment. Stormtroopers weren't supposed to be gentle and concerned about their squadmates. They were supposed to be expendable and soulless objects raised to do one thing: fight for the glory of the Empire, and die for the glory of the Empire. In this case, it was now the First Order. As she gazed into those innocent eyes, she felt her heart being moved with pity and compassion. He was so good, so naïve, not yet tainted by the corruption of the First Order. He was what she had been, once upon a time, but luckily for her, she had gotten out in time. _He is different, and for that, he is going to be eaten alive._

Moira felt her throat beginning to close up, so overcome she had suddenly been by emotion, and cleared her throat in order to continue speaking. "I understand your concern for your squadmate, and I will try to help him the best I can, but I need you to trust me on this. Let me help _you_."

"I don't understand. Why me?"

 _Because Phasma told me to watch you._ "Because there's something about you, kid, something special. According to Phasma, your squadron has a promising future here in the First Order, and you could be the one leading them someday. I want to prepare you for that, even if that means sacrificing time with my other students. Do you understand me?"

FN-2187's face had slackened with shock, but he quickly recovered. However, he still looked doubtful. "I-I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything. What you need to be doing is practicing. Now, show me the correct defensive position."

He complied, stepping back with his left leg and bending his knees, getting low to the ground. He crossed his arms parallel to each other in front of his body, one angling up and the other down. By doing so, he made the upper half of his body smaller and harder to gain access to. This stance was different than the traditional defensive stance, where the arms would just be held up in front of the face, leaving part of the stomach and chest exposed. Moira had been taught many defensive stances, but she had found this one the most effective and widely used around the Syndicate. The face still remained guarded by a fist and an elbow, and so were the stomach and chest. It had been tough to teach her classes (she also taught basic self-defense classes to ordinary personnel as well) this new stance, but she could tell that they were beginning to understand its practicality, especially when it came to blocking attacks. The stance was also effective when using melee weapons; Moira typically utilized it when she wielded her tonfas.

She nodded to FN-2187 in approval, and sank into a similar stance. "Are you ready," she asked. "I am going to attack you with a punch to the face. You remember what to do, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, nodding. "I…do have just one more question for you though, pertaining to self-defense."

"Okay," Moira said. "I can definitely answer this one for you."

"Um, uh, will we have to do what you did to Nines, sorry, FN-2199? I mean, with flips and stuff. Do we have to learn that too?"

He sounded so scared and embarrassed that Moira had to laugh. It wasn't _that_ funny, yet just the image of FN-2187 climbing up Nines was enough to break her calm façade. She began to laugh hard, so hard that tears began to form in her eyes and she had to lean forward to grip her sides. Her laugh echoed around the room, causing the others to stop what they were doing to stare at her in confusion and a bit of concern. FN-2187 remained frozen where he was, gazing at her with a look that could only be described as panic and confusion.

"Are-are you okay?"

Moira shook her head as she continued to laugh, gasping for air. "Yeah," she wheezed, "I'm okay." She straightened up and placed her hands on her hips in order to help her breath. "Sorry about that everyone. You can get back to your drills now." When they all hesitated, she spoke a little louder: "I said _now_." She watched with amusement as they whipped around to face their partners again and resumed their drills. She turned back to face FN-2187, who still looked wary. She raised her eyebrows at him, and taking the hint, he dropped into the defensive stance. "Are you ready?" Moira asked. He nodded. He was prepared to block a punch to the face, not one to the gut, after which he was floored with a sweep from Moira, who laughed again.

"Let's just work on blocking basic punches before getting into anything too fancy," she commented, reaching out her hand.

"You told me that you were going to punch at my face," he complained as Moira pulled him to his feet.

Moira smirked at him. "The first thing that you need to know about me is that I always play as fair as my opponents."

"But I wouldn't have-."

"And that is exactly why you'll be the first to go in battle. You've got to learn to play dirty, cadet, because I can assure you that your adversaries will be. Do you get what I'm saying?"

He nodded, and while she could tell that he understood what she was saying, she could still see the doubt in his eyes. She almost sighed in exasperation. She had a lot of work to do.

* * *

 

When her class with the FN-Corps was over for the day, Moira always had some time to explore the facility before her next class arrived. This ranged from lifting weights to trying out the obstacle course arranged in another room. Today, she ended up at the punching bags, practicing different kicks and strikes she had learned over the years. She had just finished her second set of backhand strikes when two armored Stormtroopers entered the room, and upon spotting her, drew closer. This was odd; the troopers always waited for her outside; they never intruded during her time here. Something was up.

"Hey, what do you want?"

"You are to come with us; we are taking you back to your residence."

Moira frowned. Something was _definitely_ up. "I'm sorry, but I have a class that will-."

"Your next class has been canceled for today. You are to report back to your room to get ready."

 _Get ready?_ "For what? What's going on?"

"We cannot tell you, miss. We have received orders from the General-."

"Oh for the love of the gods! What does he want now?" Moira exclaimed. "Why does he always ruin everything?"

The Stormtroopers obviously had no answer, so Moira just threw up her hands in exasperation and went to grab her towel and water bottle, grumbling obscenities meant for a certain ginger general. She trudged after her guards and shoved past them to enter her room.

Ever since she agreed to his offer, her brother began to shower her with gifts: new holovids and novels, expensive jewelry, beautiful dresses and fancy gowns, and invitations to dinner, all which Moira refused to accept; she did not need to give her brother the satisfaction of his apparent victory. As a result, the new holos remained unwatched, the jewelry untouched, and the dresses folded in the dresser. Moira was also perfectly content with eating alone, as dining with the General would almost feel like defeat, that she had forgiven and forgotten everything that he had done, like she belonged to him now. This was probably why she was given those dresses and jewelry, to wear them to dinner, so the General could flaunt her around like some sort of prize. No, she was no one's prize.

Moira was expecting when she walked in to see another dress lying on her bed, but she was surprised to find nothing. Disconcerted, she made her way to the refresher and showered up, deliberately taking her time. She towel dried her hair and decided to quickly curl it with the appliances found in the room. She decided to wear a thin long sleeve black shirt that covered her knuckles, which were bruised from punching despite the tape that she had wrapped around them, but there were holes for her thumbs. She also pulled up a clean pair of skinny cargo pants and clipped on her utility belt just to feel something familiar. She slid on a pair of soft boots, as her other ones were a bit sweaty at the moment. When she felt presentable enough, she exited the room to where the troopers waited for her.

They headed down the halls in silence, as usual, but Moira could feel the trepidation that hung in the air, and she felt on edge, as if waiting for something to happen. She should have brought her tonfas.

They stopped at set of unfamiliar blast doors guarded by two other Stormtroopers, but did not enter. Instead, she was told that they would be waiting till she was sent for. Moira guessed that there was some sort of meeting taking place. Minutes passed like hours, and Moira took to counting the different scratches in the rock protruding from the wall across from her, but she kept getting distracting by this dark, foreboding presence that had taken residence in the back of her mind. She had felt it ever since they had reached the doors, a darkness that seemed to be emanating from whatever was behind those blast doors, whispering danger. A darkness that was inviting her in, yet warning her to keep away at the same time. Whatever it was, Moira did not want to find out.

She was snapped back into reality when the doors _whooshed_ open, allowing First Order personnel of every rank to file through. They were dressed to the silver credit-not a uniform was wrinkled or disheveled, not a hair out of place. Moira also noticed the change that went over almost every single one of them as they exited the room. It seemed as if an insurmountable amount of tension had suddenly disappeared. Shoulders slackened and facial muscles relaxed. If Moira did not know any better, she would have thought that these people looked relieved to get out of there.

Her brother was the last to exit, and the same change passed over him as well, though minute. He nearly started when he saw her, as if he had not expected her to be standing there at all. However, he quickly recovered and drew himself up, putting on the official appearance of a military leader, not that of the weary and anxious man who had just stepped through the door seconds ago. The transformation was honestly astonishing.

"Ah, you're here. Right on schedule. Follow me; he is waiting for you."

 _He? Who's "he"?_ Before Moira could ask, Hux turned around and headed back into the room, giving her no choice but to follow. Her Stormtrooper guards remained outside.

The room, or the chamber, more accurately, was enormous and dark, reminding Moira of a cave. A thin white mist was visible in the limited amount of light that illuminated the room. The walls appeared to be made of stone, the floor metal. Moira and Hux were walking down an aisle, with rows of tables arranged in a semicircle on both sides. It was obviously some kind of conference room, but to Moira, it was a throne room, for at the opposite end of the room sat a large throne, and on that throne sat one the most terrifying things that Moira had ever seen in her entire life.

Suddenly the dark presence that she had felt earlier increased tenfold, overwhelming her, threatening to smother her. She froze in her tracks, unable to continue onward, every fiber in her body screaming for her to run. Her brother stopped as well and turned around to look at her questionably.

"Moira," he said, sounding anxious, "come on. What are you waiting for?"

Moira just shook her head, unable to speak. She felt as if there were a weight pressing down on her chest, making it difficult for her to breath and move. _Get out of here now_ , said a voice in her head.

"Come closer, child," boomed a voice from the throne. "There is no need for fear." The voice was ancient yet smooth, commanding yet gentle. It washed over Moira like a soft caress, compelling her to continue forward.

As she drew closer, she could see a glint of metal at the base of the throne, and her heart went to her throat at the sight of Kylo Ren turning to look at her, but she was soon distracted by the figure towering over her.

The single beam of light that shone down revealed a grotesque being unlike anything she had ever seen. The face, mostly concealed in shadow, was pale, gaunt, and twisted; the skin stretched tightly over the cheekbones, revealing scarred tissue. There was a horrific gash that ran from the creature's bald scalp down to its forehead, almost right between its dark beady eyes. Moira could also see that the thing also nearly lacked a left ear. A high collar covered most of its neck, but if Moira looked close enough, she could make out the scarred ligaments there. _My gods._

Soon, she came up on Kylo's left, standing on a dais directly beneath the throne. General Hux stood just behind her.

"Supreme Leader," said her brother, bowing his head, "I have brought the girl, just as you requested."

"Very good, General. You are dismissed," the creature said, waving a long, skeletal hand.

Panic gripped Moira's heart, snapping her out of that trance-like state. Her father had always spoken similar words before he punished Moira severely. "No," she whispered hoarsely, turning to her brother in desperation. "Don't leave, _please_." _Don't leave me again._

Her brother actually looked unsure at the moment, like he seriously did not want to leave her.

" _Please_ ," Moira said, her voice trembling now. She could see the conflict in his eyes as he kept looking back and forth between Moira and the figure on the throne.

" _General_ ," the Supreme Leader rumbled warningly.

At that, Hux visibly straightened, and shooting Moira one last indecipherable look, bowed to the Supreme leader and turned and made for the door in long, purposeful strides. Moira exhaled in defeat as she watched him go and flinched when the sound of the door closing echoed throughout the room.

"What is your name, child?" asked the Supreme Leader, causing Moira to whip back around. She stared up the being and found that she could not speak. The darkness was crushing her, and she wanted to do nothing more than curl up into a ball and wait for it to go away.

"The Supreme Leader asked you a question, girl. Answer him," came Kylo Ren's gravelly voice, making her jump.

"Now, now Kylo. There is no need to frighten the girl any more than she already has been." He turned to look down upon Moira. "I am Supreme Leader Snoke, leader of the First Order. There is no reason to be alarmed; I am only a hologram. I am not here." Somehow, that did not reassure Moira, as it was a very convincing hologram, but he still sounded genuine and even kind, almost like a grandfather, though Moira would know nothing about grandfathers.

Snoke continued: "Now that I have introduced myself, it only seems proper that you do the same, so let's try this again: what is your name?"

"M-Moira Hux…sir," Moira added after some hesitation.

The Supreme Leader appeared to be satisfied with this information, or he already knew it, for he leaned forward a little, scrutinizing her. "Yes," he said, "the General's sister. Oh yes, I can see the family resemblance now."

Moira wanted to shy away from his gaze, but she held firm, staring right back at him. "Yes," she made herself say, "but the similarities stop right there, I'm afraid." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kylo look at her, as if he did not expect that.

If Snoke hadn't either, he did not show it. Instead, much to her surprise, and Kylo's, he began to chuckle, making the room reverberate. It was honestly terrifying. "You are quite right, my dear," he rumbled. "I have heard many things about you, mostly from the General himself. If I am not mistaken, you are now training Stormtroopers, correct?"

Moira nodded. "Yes, sir," she affirmed.

The Supreme Leader nodded. "Captain Phasma has spoken highly of you. She claims that you are an effective teacher, and a very skilled one at that."

Moira was surprised by this. "I-I do not know what to say."

"You arrived at that position because of one particular incident in which you displayed your impressive skills."

Moira flinched. She knew what he was talking about. "I apologize for my bellicose conduct. I was not myself, as I was suffering from delirium and my own _righteous_ anger, which I let get the best of me. I was not clear minded."

The Supreme Leader gave another dismissive gesture with his hand. "It is in the past. I would like to know this, however. Why do you think you were able to move the way you did, to fight the way you did? I have seen the security footage for myself. Your movements were almost…otherworldly. Your brother says that you are smart, so tell me why."

Moira frowned. She did not know where this conversation was going, but she did not like it. "I'm sure that my brother has also told you that I was a member of the Black Sun Crime Syndicate. They trained me for years. I credit them for my abilities."

Snoke leaned back into his throne. "Yes," he said, "he told me. However, Kylo Ren here seems to think otherwise."

Moira turned to look at Kylo Ren in confusion, who also glanced in her direction. "Why?" she asked, looking back up at Snoke. "What does he believe?" She definitely did not like where this conversation was going.

"That you are Force-sensitive," the Supreme Leader replied bluntly.

For a few moments, the room was utterly silent. Then, Moira burst out in raucous bordering on hysterical laughter. "Are you serious?" she gasped. "I've been accused of many things during my life, but being Force-sensitive was never one of them. That's just ridiculous! There is no _kriffing_ way that I'm Force-sensitive. If I was, I would know."

"No, you wouldn't, and that's because you have forgotten," said Kylo, turning to face her.

Moira spun toward him as well, facing him head on. "What? What do you mean I don't remember?" Her voice was beginning to rise with hysterics. "What kind of game are you playing, Ren? Why would you ever think of something like that? I know why! You're a crazy, sick, and twisted-." She never got to finish, for her throat suddenly closed up, preventing any more air from getting out or in. She grappled at her throat, staring wide eyed at the hand that was extended toward her, positioned in such a way that it would fit perfectly around her neck.

"That. Is enough. Out of you," Kylo spat at her, and he squeezed a little harder, making Moira gasp. Her vision was beginning to grow dark around the edges, and she felt panic swell within her.

"Kylo Ren, release her at once!" Snoke commanded, his voice raised almost to a booming yell.

Immediately, the pressure around Moira's throat vanished, and she fell forward onto her knees, gasping for air. She coughed a couple times, inhaling and exhaling sharply. _What the frack was that?_ She reached up to massage her neck and cleared a throat. "Bastard," she finished with a croak. Through her blurred vision, she saw Kylo's hands clench into fists at his sides, and she expected him to attack her again, but he did nothing.

Moira slowly got to her feet and was met with the Supreme Leader's penetrating gaze. "I know that it sounds implausible; Ren and I thought so ourselves, but then, together we developed a theory."

"Oh?" Moira rasped, "and that is?"

"While Ren was interrogating you not too long ago, he came across an obstruction in your mind, something that he could not get through. He believes that your mind has been shielded, and has hypothesized that it could be concealing your powers…and memories."

Moira furrowed her brow. Abruptly, she thought back to the dream she had when she first woke up here on Starkiller Base, the dream involving her father. She was certain that those events had never taken place, yet at the same time, they had felt familiar. Could it possibly have been…a memory? _No, no, it couldn't have been, it just couldn't, but…_

"Ah, you've felt it, haven't you?" Snoke asked. "You've seen it. A flash of a long-forgotten memory that managed to slip through the cracks made by Kylo. It felt like a dream did it not? It was as ephemeral as the common dream, but it still felt familiar. Yes, I can see it in your eyes, I can feel your confusion and fear. I can even…see…it."

That was when Moira felt it, the darkness that had been surrounding her was now touching her mind, prodding at it like Kylo had done, but it was much gentler, like a caress. It also felt incredibly wrong. Moira lurched back with a gasp, as if that would help her get away from the oily blackness that was violating her. "No," she gasped, "stay out of my head." She tried to sound firm, but her voice wavered.

"But do you want to know the truth?" Snoke pressed. His voice no longer sounded placating; it had become predatory. He leaned in even closer, displaying more of his ravaged appearance. "Do you want to know why you are having those nightmares, why you are stronger, faster, and smarter than others? Do you want to know why Luke Skywalker took away your memories and powers?"

_Wait, what?_

"Luke Skywalker? I-I've never even met him! How could he have-?"

"You just do not remember, child, but we can help you. Let us help release you from your burden."

This was all wrong. This could not be true. She could not listen to this nonsense anymore; she had to get out of here. "No," she said, taking a step backward. "Don't touch me. Leave me alone. I don't want this."

Snoke sneered, stretching out his scarred skin even more. "I'm afraid, my dear, that you do not have a choice," he said darkly. "Now, be still."

His voice had become soothing again, so hypnotic that Moira found herself going weak at the knees, and she could not move. She stared up at the Supreme Leader with heavy lidded eyes and a gaping mouth. Some small part of her brain was screaming in panic, but she was unable to comprehend why.

"Good girl," Snoke praised. "You must be strong now, for this shall be painful. Kylo Ren, you will begin. Remember your training. Reopen the cracks that you made, and I will do the rest. Do not disappoint me."

"I will not fail you, Master," said Kylo, and he moved to stand in front of Moira, who remained motionless where she stood.

She gazed into the visor and saw her own reflection staring back at her with vacant eyes. She saw the hand raise in front of her, and the spell was broken. She still could not move, but she was now aware of what was going to happen to her. "Please don't do this," she begged, but all she got in return was pain, a familiar pain, a pain that would have forced her to her knees if she wasn't being held in place.

She did however gasp and whimper as the hot pike once again drove through her skull, but this time, it stopped, not going in any further. The presence in her mind seemed hesitant to continue on, so this was when Moira, who had no idea what to do, decided to fight back. Through the blinding pain, she summoned up her own willpower and mentally screamed: _GET OUT!_

For a second, she thought she saw the hand waver and the arm tremble, but then an ugly snarl could be heard through the mask, and she was hit again, harder this time. "Yes, Kylo, use your anger," Snoke murmured in approval. "Show no mercy. Break through it. Break _her_."

Now, it felt as if someone was literally punching her brain, pounding on it as hard as they could. She thought that she could almost feel something there beginning to loosen, but she did not know what it was. However, she knew that blood was beginning to leak from her nose again and her vision was becoming blurry. She could not do anything about it; she couldn't do anything for that matter. She couldn't even pass out like she did last time. Snoke was somehow keeping her conscious.

She screamed when that same snapping sensation overcame her again. Something had cracked in her head, and she thought that she could begin to hear something. It sounded like a child's scream…

"Well done, Kylo, well done. Now, allow me."

The tempestuous presence in her mind was swiftly replaced by the gentle yet vile darkness that Moira could now identify as the Supreme Leader's presence. He prodded gently at first, and then, without warning, Moira was ripped apart. She jerked, cried out, and the grip on her vanished as she collapsed to the floor, where she curled into a ball and began to thrash about.

It was like a wall had been suddenly torn down, a dam removed, for suddenly she was being overwhelmed with sensations, visions that she couldn't aptly describe. She gripped her head between her hands and began to scream.

* * *

 

_She was back in her father's office on the floor, right after he had shoved her to the ground. She was sobbing, staring up at her father in terror._

" _I have had enough of you, young lady! I have grown tired of your constant defiance of the Empire! Why must you always contradict everything that is taught to you? Why do you continue to defend those filthy Rebels, those savages? Do you forget that they are the ones who were responsible for the events that led to your mother's death? Have you so easily forgotten that?"_

 _No, she hadn't forgotten, and she never would, as she was the result of her mother's death. Her father certainly never forgot_ that. _At her father's words, guilt, grief, and anger swelled within her, threatening to boil over at any moment. "No," she cried, "never!"_

_Commandant Hux wasn't buying it. "Are you defending the monsters that took away our home, everything that we held dear? Are you a traitor, then?" He came towards her again._

_That did it. Moira let out a scream and raised her hands to try to ward him off, but that was not what surprised her father. He was surprised when he was flung across the room by an unseen force, flipping over his desk. Moira gasped and stared at her hands in shock. What had just happened? When her father pushed himself to his feet, Moira was even more stunned by the look in his eyes, one that she had never seen in her father until now: fear._

" _You," he whispered, horror evident in his voice, "you're one of_ them _."_

_Moira was so confused. "I'm sorry! I don't know what happened; I just got scared! What did I do, Father?"_

_Her father was staring at her as if he had truly seen her for the first time, and it was terrifying. "You two," he said, addressing the Stormtroopers who had been stunned silent, "take her to one of the holding cells, the most secure one that we have. Just...get her out of my sight." His voice shook, but from what, Moira could not tell, but that wasn't what she was worried about._

" _A cell?" she shrieked. She felt the white armored hands enclose her arms. "No!" she screamed as they began to drag her out of the room. "Daddy, no! Daddy, please no, I'm sorry! DADDY!"_

_Now, everything came in snapshots, brief flashes. Moira was strapped by her head to the table, screaming as electric pulses were fired into her brain. Scientists and her father gave her different tasks ranging from moving a small object to reading someone's mind. She was even given a prisoner to mind control. However, she would fail every task or simply refuse to do them. She had no idea where she was, though she guessed that it was some research facility somewhere on a planet._

_Another flash took her to the same location, only it was two years later. Moira had been pushed to her breaking point, was nearly unconsciousness when suddenly alarms began to blare. She heard that they were under attack; Republic forces had arrived. Her father fled the room with explicit orders to protect the test subject and be prepared to relocate her. Moira was in the process of being unhooked when the doors burst open and at least half a dozen men flooded into the room, all armed with blasters. They quickly mowed down the five Stormtroopers present and the scientists that dared to attack them. When the firefight ceased, the men took stock of their surroundings. "What in the nine kriffing hells is this place?" one soldier asked._

_Then, they saw Moira. "Oh my gods," one choked out. "Get General Solo, now!"_

" _I'm already here! Out of my way," came a gruff voice from the entryway. The men parted to reveal a middle aged man in combat gear, wielding a blaster. He was scruffy-looking and his eyes were hard, but they immediately widened when they fell upon Moira. The man all but ran forward and took in Moira's barely conscious form. "Why haven't any of you laser-brained fools done anything yet?" he asked, clearly upset. He looked back at Moira, his eyes churning with emotions, mostly compassion. "Don't worry, honey," he said as he began to gently unhook the wires from her head. "We're going to get you out of here." When he cut apart the last strap that held her to the table, Moira fell forward into his arms, limp. "Oh no, kid! Don't do this to me!" The man turned towards the other soldiers standing around helplessly. "Well don't just stand there," the man yelled, enraged. "Someone call a medic, now!"_

" _Yessir!" they all yelled, and began to scramble out in a rush to appease their commander, who sank down to the floor, cradling Moira in his arms._

" _It's okay, sweetheart," he said. "You're going to be fine, just hang on. Hang on."_

_The scene shifted to a hospital room, in which Moira lay half-awake on a bed. Leia Organa, when she was still a senator and went by the last name Solo, sat beside her, holding her hand. Standing at Moira's bedside was a man clothed in a dark brown robe, hands folded in front of him. He had short dirty blonde hair and a beard of the same color. He also had piercing blue eyes that currently looked conflicted._

" _Leia," he was saying, his voice calm yet troubled, "you know what might happen, if I do this."_

_Leia looked back at him with just as commanding of stare, perhaps a little more intense. "And you know, Luke, what might happen if you don't. Do you have any idea what she has been through? She was tortured by her own father for having a power that she didn't understand, that she couldn't control. She'll have to carry those memories with her for the rest of her life, and she is a child. A child should not have to endure that. She should not be burdened with those awful memories…and those powers."_

" _Leia," Luke began again, but she cut him off._

" _Did you not here me? She was tortured by her_ father _. Does that sound familiar?" Her voice had begun to waver at the end, and she swallowed hard._

"Your _past does not define_ her _future," Luke said sternly. "As I said before, she can come to the Academy, where she will learn control."_

" _She's been through too much," Leia protested. "Who knows how that has affected her psychological state? She is a child, Luke. She needs to be protected."_

" _From what, herself?" Luke asked. "Leia, blocking her sensitivity to the Force and those memories can also have a drastic effect on her psyche. It's too dangerous!" He was clearly becoming exasperated now._

_Leia's eyes narrowed. "Then if you won't do it, I will," she said in a low voice._

_Luke's own eyes widened. "You can't be serious."_

" _I am. I want to give her the chance to live her life as normally as she can. She has family on Chandrila. She can live with them in peace without the burden of the Force," she said, punctuating that last word with barely concealed contempt. "Please, Luke. Look at her, look at how peaceful she looks now. When she wakes up, she'll remember, but if you do this, she may not have to."_

_By now, Moira was awake and blinking in surprise and confusion at her guests. "Leia?" she asked groggily, looking at Luke, "who's that?"_

_Leia smiled gently at the girl. "Someone who can help you, Moira. Someone who can make you feel better. Wouldn't you like that?"_

_Moira looked back and forth between the man and woman, and then nodded. "Please help me," she whispered, staring up at Luke. "I want to be free of this pain."_

_Luke's raised his eyebrows, his shoulders sagged in defeat, and he sighed. "Then I will get rid of it for you. Close your eyes and relax. This may pinch a little." Moving forward, he shot one more glance at Leia, his expression sad. He then placed his fingertips gently on Moira's temples and closed his eyes, his face screwing up in concentration. Then suddenly, Moira let out a small gasp, and her body went limp._

_Leia gasped and reached for the girl, but Luke held up a hand. "She is fine," he said, his voice strained. "Reach out to her through the Force, Leia, and tell me what you feel."_

_Leia frowned as she stared at the girl in concentration. "I feel nothing, nothing from her at all."_

_Luke sighed. "That is because I have suppressed her Force-signature, and her sensitivity along with it. The shielding has been successful. I hope that you are pleased with yourself," he said. "She could have blossomed at the Academy, if she was given the time. Who knows, perhaps she could have found a friend in Ben; they are close in age after all."_

_Leia shook her head sadly. "No, this is for the best. She needs to be surrounded by her family, a family that will give her the love that she is in dire need of. Even you can't deny that, Luke." She gazed down softly at the sleeping girl. "But for now, let her rest, let her dream in peace."_

* * *

 

Moira was sucked back into reality, still lying on the floor, drenched in her own sweat, tears, and eventually her blood, for she rolled onto her stomach and began to vomit up blood. Kylo Ren, who was still standing in front of her, leapt back from the mess. When she finished retching, Moira rolled over onto her back and continued to shiver and twitch, incapable of thought. _Lies, all lies._ Her vision became cloudy, and if she died right here and right now, she wouldn't have known it.

"Excellent, very interesting indeed," boomed Snoke, sounding very, very satisfied. "We have found what we were looking for. Kylo, remove Miss Hux from the chamber and report back to me. We have much to discuss in regards to this new information. Oh, and bring General Hux along as well."

Moira barely registered a pair of strong arms lifting her gently off the floor and the warmth that she was being pressed against. Her head lolled back and her heavy eyes looked up at the dark ceiling and even caught the glint of something metal turning towards her every few seconds. She probably blacked out shortly after that, but she remembered the feeling of set being down on something soft, and the warmth of what felt like a hand on her forehead. She even thought that she heard a voice, deep yet gentle, whisper: _"I'm sorry. Perhaps...we could have been friends,"_ but it was probably just her imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Finally, Chapter 10, and a huge reveal along with it! Just to give all of you a heads up, I am changing the cover photo of this story, so I don't want there to be any confusion. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, etc., especially to figbassit75, who has an amazing story called The Skies Are Ablaze. You should definitely check it out; it's worth it!  
> I had studied martial arts for about three years, and while we used the traditional fighting stance, I really liked the stance that I saw in the movie Divergent, as it also seemed to be practical. I kind of have an idea about what I'm talking about here! :)  
> Oh, I almost forgot! To all of my American readers: Happy 4th of July!  
> tumblr account: fngrl-2187


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Before you begin reading, I have some important info! I just edited a few things in previous chapters, such as taking out a few consistencies, though nothing detrimental to the plot.  
> Okay, now that that's out of the way, enjoy!

Chapter 11

 

Kylo Ren was alone in his personal quarters, seated before the burnt, twisted helmet which had been his obsession for the past few years-until now. Now, he mainly sought after it as a distraction, something to pull his mind away from the one located on the other side of the base. He had tried meditation, but he had always been rubbish at that. He could never seem to find that sense of calm that was required for meditation, and yet, he had found it in _her_. Her mind was currently at peace, and he had been inexplicably drawn to it, like a moth to a light. He had felt it when he set her down on her bed, her body limp in his arms. He had decided to bring her straight to her quarters, given the last incident in the medical wing.

With the exception of the blood covering her face and front, there was no other sign that she had been through significant trauma. Her face had been serene, the lines on it nearly invisible, making her appear several years younger. He had planned on leaving her right then and there after sending for Dr. Tarly, but then she had whimpered, almost as if she could sense his departure. That face had suddenly contorted into a look of fear and pain, and the eerie calmness that had come over her after she had fallen unconscious was briefly shattered. That had given him pause.

Then he had done something he thought that he would never do, especially for a complete stranger. He had removed his helmet. Holding it in his hands, he had gazed down at her, no longer seeing the world from behind the grey, filmy lens. He was struck by what he saw. Her hair was brighter than he expected, standing out against the black pillows, and darker in the places where it clung to her pale and sweaty face. He could also see the light dusting of freckles on her nose, as well as the dark circles under her eyes.

As if possessed by an unseen force, Kylo had placed his helmet down on the bed at her feet and moved closer. Something else had caught his eye: a discoloration of the skin on the left side of her neck, slightly under her jaw. It was a scar, one that looked to be the result of a severe burn. It still looked fairly new, possible a few years old at least.  Upon closer inspection, the scar continued up her cheek, reaching her temple, though it had faded a lot there. 

He still did not know why he had stretched out his hand and placed it on her forehead. Her skin was hot underneath his glove; she was burning up. She stilled at his touch, her face settling once more. He was even more disturbed by the words that he spoke next, words that still resonated in his mind now. _“Perhaps we could have been friends.”_

He had placed his helmet back on his head just in time to hide his shaken countenance from Dr. Tarly, who had rushed in, a medical droid trailing behind him. He had been surprised to see Kylo there, but he had quickly recovered himself and hurried to his patient. Kylo remained until the droid had finished its scans, after which he asked for her condition. _“The General will want to know,”_ he had added. Dr. Tarly, obviously perturbed by the Knight’s presence, confirmed what Kylo knew already: the girl would be fine. With that knowledge, he left to go back to Snoke, from whom he learned even more troubling news, which had prompted him to end up in his current position.

 _Perhaps we could have been friends._ It would not do him any good to dwell on the “could haves” and “what ifs,” but he had still been shaken by what he had seen in the young woman’s mind. Whatever he had been expecting to see did not compare to the truth. He had not been expecting any of that. He had not expected to see _them_. She knew _them_. That information alone made him want to kill her, and he almost had when he had been standing over her. He could have closed his hand around her throat without even touching her, but instead, he had set it gently on her head. He did not understand his actions, and he was becoming increasingly frustrated. He should have killed her-one more link to his past, no matter how weak, gone. However, he was plagued by the words spoken by _her_ at the end of the last memory. How different would the future have been, if that damaged little girl had come to the Academy? Could they have been friends? If that was so, it would not have mattered; she would have been killed with the rest, Kylo was sure of it.  She should count herself lucky.

He closed his eyes behind his mask and inwardly cursed, still hearing his own words. Why had he said that? He now felt weak, and she was at fault. Yes, he should kill her, as it would be a much needed relief on many fronts. Hux would certainly not be happy, but when did Kylo ever care about the General’s happiness? The only being whose wrath he feared was the Supreme Leader’s, who would not be pleased if his newest pet project suddenly lost her head. That also made Kylo angry. He would never openly admit that he was jealous, but he was. Why was this girl so important? She was nothing. She was volatile and unpredictable, and rebellious in nature, according to Hux, who had grudgingly shared some of his sister’s past with Kylo.

_“She was born in battle, during the Republic’s attack on Arkanis,” Hux began, staring straight ahead, as if in a trance. “Her mother had been wounded on the way to the shuttle that brought us to one of the Star Destroyers that was in atmosphere. Conveniently, she also began to go into labor on the way there.”_

_Kylo did not miss the slight emphasis Hux put on the “her.” He knew that Hux was the illegitimate child of Commandant Brendol Hux, born to a woman who was obviously not Hux’s wife, who was his fiancé at the time. So, Moira was his half-sister then. Interesting. Kylo wondered if the girl knew that. However, he remained silent, allowing Hux to continue his tale._

_“She was brought to the medical wing right away where she gave birth to a healthy baby girl, but unfortunately, she succumbed to her injuries and the stress from the delivery. She was dead only minutes after her child was born, but she was still able to hold her and give her a name. She even…said goodbye to me.” Hux had turned fully away from Kylo, who had also not missed the way his voice slightly wavered as he spoke those words._

_“What of the years that followed, what was she like?” he inquired._

_“Moira? She was,” Hux paused, “different.”_

_“How so?” Kylo asked._

_“I am getting to that,” the General snapped in irritation before continuing. “My sister was smart, a genius even. She learned at a much faster rate than I could have ever dreamed of. She was performing at levels above what her age required, and she excelled at them. She was particularly superior in the sciences, especially physics. If things had turned out according to plan, she would have most likely been the leading engineer behind this base or the design and construction of Star Destroyers. That was what she had wanted to do ever since she saw the schematics of one, and she was six years old then; she was enthralled by them."_

_"She was also…rebellious. She never agreed with our father on certain ideals and principles. Her boldness and dissention often got her into trouble. That was what made her different, and our father did not like that at all.” There had been something in his voice when he said that, a troubled tone, and his face had a haunted look upon it, as if her were remembering something unpleasant, but Kylo ignored that. He now had the information that he needed; the fact that she had been considered a genius only supported his new theory._

Now, however, thinking back to that conversation, Kylo now knew, or at least guessed, why Hux had seemed uneasy at the end of his explanation. The first memory had indeed been unsettling, but what had followed was downright disturbing. Kylo had almost been tempted to back out of her mind at that point, but had forced himself to continue watching, and he wished that he hadn’t, given what had come next.

He clenched his hands tightly into fists at his sides and bowed his head lower towards his knees. His anger threatened to boil over again, so he focused on the object before him, channeling all of his emotions towards it. “Grandfather,” he whispered, “I am troubled by these current events, and I am unsure of what to do. The Supreme Leader senses my displeasure at his decision, but he is wise. He knows what he is doing, and yet, I cannot find it within myself to comply with his demands. I do not want to go through with this, but I know that I must. Help me, Grandfather, tell me what to do, tell me how to approach this conflict.”

 _Search your feelings, Kylo. You already know the answer,_ the voice in his head whispered.

He did search his feelings, and he found pain, jealousy, anger, and hate, all currently directed towards one specific person. He hated her, he finally decided. He hated what she was, a living and painful reminder of his past, one he could not destroy, at least for now. She was the cause of his jealousy. She was a distraction, a pathetic weakness. She was going to be a nuisance, _his_ nuisance. Yes, he would hate her. He would follow through with the Supreme Leader’s plans, but he would approach them in his own way.

 _I hate her, I hate her._ Which each thought, he immersed himself further in the Dark Side, calling upon it to help fuel his hatred, his anger. It was all too happy to comply.

However, as he continued this mental repetition, his attention also began to gravitate back to the mind of the one he was currently swearing to despise. Curiosity once again getting the best of him, he could not resist having another look while his victim was still unaware of the intrusion. It was more of a violation, to be exact, but Kylo was one to rarely respect the privacy of others. Although neither Hux nor Snoke would be too pleased about it, he had to examine what else was stored away in those long forgotten memories. He needed to know how much she knew, and he needed to know _now_.

As a precaution, he brushed lightly against her mind and found it to be lethargic and foggy, her thoughts muddled. Good, she was still asleep. Determined not to be distracted this time by the serenity that was also present, Kylo pressed in, focused on his mission. He anticipated no resistance this time, but not the immediate and almost violent response that he received.

Like a switch being flicked, the young woman’s mind became alert so fast that Kylo could practically visualize her eyes snapping open. He could sense her confusion—she sensed his presence—followed by alarm and horror when she finally recognized that the presence was his. _Smart girl._ If a mental gasp was even possible, Kylo heard it. He felt her panic, fear, and bewilderment. Kylo imagined her laying on her bed frozen with fear, her eyes wide and her chest heaving with every panicked breath she took. She was terrified.

Any other time, Kylo would have basked in his prey’s terror, letting their emotions feed the darkness within him, giving him strength. This time, though, he was shaken by what had just occurred, so he backed right out of there, slipping back into his own mind where he felt at ease.

She was now awake, and he felt like he was the one responsible for that.

He took a few minutes to gather his bearings, breathing in and out slowly, fighting the urge to remove his helmet. Never again, not for her.

His fingers curled tightly around the arm rests of his chair, and he went to stand, but froze abruptly when he felt something. It was as if an alarm was going off in his head, an alarm that sent chills down his spine. It was most definitely a warning that only the Force could supply, but as always, it was ambiguous. Something was wrong, but what? Kylo had the feeling that something bad was going to happen, but not to him. He did not feel in danger, but something or someone else was.

Instinctively, he reached out with the Force, probing his surroundings for the source of this danger. Then, out of nowhere, he was hit with an agonizing pain, but it wasn’t physical, and it certainly wasn’t his own pain. He was feeling someone else’s through the Force, someone else’s emotional pain, and it made his head hurt and his chest tighten. _Who in the nine hells--?_

Then he knew. Of course. Her inner turmoil was unintentionally being projected through the Force, transcending physical expression. Her emotions were raging wildly against his consciousness, but he was able to single out the loudest and recurring ones: anger, terror, and hopelessness. She was mentally screaming, screaming with pain that could only be felt on the inside. It was torture for him as well, but a different kind of torture. He wanted to clamp his hands around his ears and block all of it out, but he knew that that would do him no good. The only way to stop this was to make her stop.

With that in mind, Kylo stood up and made for the door. He was almost there when suddenly, everything stopped. The Force was silent now. Kylo paused, uncertain, and waited. There was nothing. However, there was still the premonition at the back of Kylo’s mind that told him that something was wrong.

Hesitantly, Kylo reached out to her again, careful to remain surreptitious, and was met by a strange calm. It was the kind of calm one felt after they had finally made up their mind about something, the calmness of acceptance, a resolute calm. Kylo should have felt relieved, but instead, all he felt was trepidation. Yes, something was _definitely_ not right.

Feeling anything but calm, Kylo exited his quarters and marched down the halls, scattering First Order personnel and Stormtroopers alike. That was perfectly fine with Kylo; there was no one to stand in his way of getting to the other side of the base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was just a little break from the previous chapter, allowing us to see inside Kylo's messed up head. We get to see his thoughts on the matter and learn a few new things from him like:  
> HUX IS AN ILLEGITIMATE CHILD??!! I l had just learned that a couple of days ago from someone who read the newest book Star Wars Aftermath: Life Debt! Also, his name is actually Armitage. Yeah, you heard me. Armitage. I'm just going to keep calling him Brendol because this is my story and I can do whatever I want, haha. Seriously, Armitage?? No wonder the guy always looks like he hates life. Anyway, I feel like the whole illegitimate child revelation has opened up a few doors for me in terms of plot devices, character development, etc., etc.  
> What did you think of this POV chapter? Was it too short, too long? Let me know! Also, what do you think is going to happen in the next chapter? Some serious stuff, I'll tell you that right now!  
> Thank you to all who have read this story! I greatly appreciate it!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up for this chapter: things get dark, as in a trigger-warning.  
> Sorry if this upsets anyone, but it had to be done.

Chapter 12

_Danger, wake up._ A feeling of trepidation and a sensation akin to an electric shock streaked through Moira’s consciousness, jolting her out the blissful oblivion. It was a familiar feeling, one that would always rouse her from the deepest sleep at the first sign of trouble. It was an instinct that had helped her survive Black Sun training and beyond, for an occupation like hers came with the risk of being murdered in one’s sleep. Moira would never forget the first time she was put in that situation.

 She had been fourteen years old and had woken up to find a knife pressed to her throat and a hand covering her mouth. She would never forget the terror that had coursed through her as she stared up at the familiar face of one of her instructors, who gazed back down at her with a stony expression, his eyes vacant of emotion. Quickly, the fear had turned into adrenaline, and Moira bit down hard on his hand, tasting blood. He had jerked up, reflexively moving the dagger away from her neck. Taking advantage of that, Moira had rolled backwards into a handstand, locked her legs around _his_ neck, and flipped him forward onto the bed, where she straddled him, holding the knife that she had grabbed from him to his neck. For a few seconds, neither one of them had moved, until her instructor began to chuckle. “ _Great work kid,”_ he had said. _“You’re learning fast.”_ He had smiled at her with pride, told her that he would tell Ketsu of her progress, and left her cell. He had allowed her to keep the knife, saying that she had earned it. She had slept with that weapon every night after that, up until the day attack, during which she had lost it. However, the knife had been replaced by her blasters, which were now replaced by her tonfas, which she now instinctively reached for.

She closed her hands around the perpendicular handles and quickly sat upright, brandishing her weapons in a defensive position. She scanned the surrounding area, finding herself back in a familiar room that was now dim. There were no signs of immediate danger; only silence greeted her. There was something wrong about that; it was too quiet, and looking down, Moira knew why. The familiar humming of the vibro-edged head of her weapons was absent, as well as the pulsing of electricity. She frowned. Had she forgotten to turn them on? She was sure that she had. Experimentally, she pressed the button on one of the handles. Nothing happened.

A cold sweat began to develop on her forehead and neck. Her heart began to pound. Forcing herself to stay calm, Moira continued to press the buttons on both batons, but nothing happened _. It’s nothing_ , she kept telling herself. _It’s probably just a malfunction._ The circuits just might have burnt out; she had not performed her monthly maintenance check on them yet. It was fixable, yes.

Moira rolled over across the bed to reach for the dresser which held her utility belt. She fumbled with the drawers in the dark for a few seconds before successfully retrieving her belt, which contained the necessary tools for repair. Taking deep breaths, Moira located the correct compartment and unclasped it, only to reach in and find…nothing. There was nothing in there.

Utter confusion was soon replaced by panic as she began to madly open the rest of the pouches attaining the same result. Her utility belt was bare, completely bare.

 _But I had it on earlier,_ she thought, _when I-._

She gasped and dropped her belt onto her lap as her hands moved to clutch her head. She tried in vain to hold back the inundation of memories that threatened to overwhelm her brain, but she was powerless to stop them. They came in brief flashes. First, she saw the Supreme Leader leaning over her, something like desire burning in his black eyes. Next came Kylo Ren, and just the thought of him made her head begin to pulse even more. She could still feel him…wait.

With a cry of terror, Moira flung herself off of the bed, as if attempting to escape the intruder of her mind. This was what had woken her, she was certain of it.

_Smart girl._

She froze. It was as if someone was crouching right next to her and had whispered in her ear. That voice, it was familiar. It was clearly masculine, deep and soft, but also domineering and smug. She had no idea what or who it was, but it made her afraid.

Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes as she began to hyperventilate, her chest heaving up and down. _No, not again!_

No sooner had she thought that than the hauntingly familiar presence vanished from her mind, leaving her to her own thoughts once more. However, with its disappearance returned the memories, as she was no longer distracted by her unwanted guest.

She could feel it now, the part of her mind that she hadn’t known had existed, simply because it had been blocked. She now knew why she had always felt like she was missing something, an important piece to a puzzle. However, she wished that she had never found out, because now she knew, now she remembered.

She could not remember everything right now, but she knew enough. She had been tortured by her father for possessing a power that she didn’t understand. Her father had never answered her questions even while she was screaming, except for the one about why he was doing this.

_“You are the key to our success, Moira. You are the opportunity that the Council has been waiting for, though not the kind that they expected.”_

Moira did not remember or even knew who or what the Council was, but she did know what was done to her. Her brain had been analyzed, blood had been taken. She was held in a solid white room and watched through hidden cameras. During that time, men and women in white uniforms would come in and talk to her, asking about her dreams. At other times, they would test her on her intelligence. They would sometimes bring toys and ask her to play with them without using her hands. If the results were not satisfactory or if she did not comply with the commands given to her, she would be dragged back to the chair. This had continued for months, _years_. Soon, she had just stopped talking to the scientists and refused to take their stupid tests or play with the stupid toys. The only times that she was vocal was when she screamed at the walls whenever she was left alone, or whenever she was in the chair. It had been a wretched existence. Then, she had been liberated, only to be robbed again, this time not of her freedom, but of her identity.

Leia, she had been there. She was the one who had made the decision. Moira hadn’t been herself when she had woken in the hospital, still groggy from the anesthesia. She had thought the man in the robes, Luke Skywalker, to be a doctor and was only complaining about the pain in her head. Instead of taking just that away, Skywalker took away nearly everything, and Leia had made it so. She knew all along, she must have. Out of nowhere, Moira recalled the guilty expression that came over Leia’s face before Moira had left for Ord Mantell. _“General, I thought we promised to be honest with each other.”_ She knew, and she had kept it to herself for more than a decade. She had lied to Moira, she had manipulated her.

It was too much. Reeling from shock, rising anger, and betrayal, Moira began to feel faint.

_I have to get out of here._

Heat was quickly rising to her face, and to escape it, Moira crawled to the refresher, where she closed the door behind her and pressed her face against the floor.

Besides the cool tiles that rested against her cheek, Moira felt nothing else. She was empty inside. She felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest and pulverized into nothingness. With a whimper, she curled into a ball, bringing her knees closer to her chest as she continued to hold her head in her hands.

Leia -- the woman who had saved her life, who had shown courage and determination through the worst of times, who Moira had looked up to as a mother figure -- had lied to her. The truth was like a knife, and this detail was a twist of that knife. She had trusted the General, and now, that trust was shattered. To make matters worse, did Poe know? He was one the few who knew Moira’s true identity, but did he know even more? It did not seem likely, but Moira did not know what to believe anymore.

Suddenly, a more horrible realization came to her. Did her _brother_ know? That was like the final twist of the dagger. Had her brother known what was being done to her for nearly two years? As of right now, Moira did not remember him ever coming to visit her; he was never present in the room with the chair either. She did, however, remember an expression similar to Leia’s that crossed his features during one of their meetings. She also recalled the words he spoke: _“…I first saw the marks and later heard the screams, and I made no effort to stop it.”_ Well, that was enough. The bastard!

A low-pitched keening noise made its way out of her throat, as hot tears spilled freely over her cheeks. Her chest constricted, and she could barely breathe. The pounding in her head intensified as the anger and grief returned, and she began to rock back and forth on the ground.

Her life was a lie, she realized, for how could she know what was true? How could she determine which memories were real and which ones were false? For all she knew, her entire life with the Black Sun could have been a lie, a figment of her imagination set into place by Luke Skywalker in order to hide the painful truth. She felt nothing but despair now; nothing but hopelessness.

 _Oh, gods make it all STOP!!!_ she screamed internally, her pain culminating into that one singular thought.

The sound of glass shattering broke the intense silence, but Moira did not react to it, nor did she flinch when shards of glass rained down on her. Later, she would come to learn the cause of this phenomenon, but for now, she paid it no mind.

She lay there for some time, not feeling the blood from the tiny cuts on her cheek mixing with her tears. She felt nothing but calm, staring listlessly at the wall across from her.

_I have to get out of here._

Something then caught her eye, a gleam in the bright light of the refresher. Glancing down, she saw that it was a piece of glass. She stared at it a few moments more before reaching out to grab it. Her fingers closed around the shard; she felt it cut into the palm of her hand, but she could not care less.

_I have to get out of here._

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and stared at the glass for about a minute, watching it glitter whenever she turned it over. She thought that it was pretty, and it made her smile slightly.

She pushed up the sleeve covering her right arm. She gazed down at it, at the bright blue veins standing out against her pale skin.

There was not much thought being put into her actions; she was like a marionette being controlled by a master puppeteer. She moved the glass back to her left hand and positioned it above her exposed wrist in the same driven way.

She took a deep breath, and as she did, she unexpectedly thought of Poe’s last words to her: “ _Just survive somehow.”_

 _Don’t worry, Poe,_ she thought with a smile, _I’m finally getting out of here._

Just before she could lower the shard to her skin, she heard voices. They were muffled, as if they were coming from outside her quarters. She perked up, completely alert now. She listened intently.

She was unable to make out most of the words, but there was something that sounded like: “open this door, now.” As if on cue, she heard the main door slid up, and she reacted immediately.

She quickly but stealthily moved to the right of the refresher door, carefully minding the glass covering the floor. She positioned herself against the wall next to the door, clutching the glass in a reverse grip, just like a knife. And then she waited.

She heard footsteps in the room outside as someone entered. It sounded like the heavy footfall of leather boots on metal. She held her breath.

After a brief but agonizing silence, the footsteps began again, this time heading right towards her. Whoever was in there must have seen the light. Moira momentarily cursed her stupidity, but there was no time to dwell on that. They were coming.

She flexed her fingers around the glass and tensed up, ready to strike. This was what she had been trained for.

The instant the door slid up, Moira lunged with the speed of a viper, throwing her arm to the side in a stabbing motion, waiting for the glass to find its target in soft flesh. Instead, before she could even register what was happening, she was grabbed by that very arm, spun around, and slammed into the wall to the left of the doorway, the breath leaving her body in a gasp. Her arm was then pinned by the wrist high above her head, while the rest of her body was held in place by another.

“Drop it,” Kylo Ren ordered darkly, pressing his left arm into the space just below her neck, nearly cutting off what was left of her air supply. He was so close that she could see her reflection in the mask. She could even feel his heart pounding against her chest, keeping pace with her own. Evidently, he had been just as surprised as her; he had only reacted faster.

He was telling her to drop the glass, but she simply tightened her grip on it and shook her head stubbornly. She tried to kick out at him, although her attempts were futile; he was too strong, too overpowering.

“It is pointless to resist, girl. You will drop your weapon. _Now_.” It was difficult to detect a change in his amplified voice, but it had become monotonous and even hypnotic. It demanded obedience.

Moira felt herself go lightheaded as a warm and fuzzy feeling came over the rest of her body. She did not know why, but she now felt compelled to listen to Kylo, to do as he said.

“I…I will drop…my weapon.” No sooner had those words left her mouth than her hand began to slowly open. She gasped, realizing what was happening. “Wait, no!” she cried. “No, no, no, no!”

Words were quite useless though, as she wasn’t even in control of her own body. "Fuck…you,” she whispered as the glass slipped from her loosened grip and fell to the floor, where it shattered.

“ _Damn it!_ ” she shouted as Kylo stepped away from her, allowing her to slide down to the floor. She cradled her wounded hand in her lap. “What the _hell_ was that? What did you do to me?” she demanded, her voice trembling.

Kylo, on the other hand, was not paying attention to her. Instead, he was looking around the room, taking note of the broken glass lying on the floor. “I think,” he began, finally turning around, “the more important question is: what did _you_ do?”

“You can get inside of my head; figure it out yourself!” she spat out at him, tears threatening to spill over again. “Why are you here? Why do you spoil everything? Why can’t you just let me _die_? That’s what you want, right?”

He stood motionless, staring down at her, or at least she thought so. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“ _Right_?” she asked again, her voice rising in pitch. It was hoarse and filled with raw emotion that she no longer cared to hide. _Let him see it in my eyes; let him hear it in my voice; let him know what he did to me._ She knew that she should not be provoking him, lest she end up like that poor transmission board in the command center, but she did not care. _Just kill me_ , she thought, _just end it, please._

Through her blurred vision, she saw him raise his head.

“I could…feel you.” Did he sound…confused? Moira certainly was.

“What?” was all she managed to say before a voice came from the room outside.

“Sir? Is everything alright in there? We heard screaming.” It was the electronically synthesized voice of a stormtrooper, her guards, most likely. Small help they were.

“There is nothing to concern yourselves with. The situation is under control.” Kylo took a step closer to Moira, who pressed herself even further against the wall, if that was even possible. He knelt down in front of her so he was at her eye level.

“Stay away from me,” she hissed at him, putting as much venom into her voice as she could.

He did not seem to have heard her, or he just didn’t care. “Your hand,” he said matter-of-factly, “it’s bleeding.”

“Yeah, no shit,” she snarled at him, holding her hand even closer to her chest. _Careful, Moira._

If he had taken offense to that, he did not show it, but it was impossible to tell anyways.

“Let me see it.”

She saw the hand beginning to reach for her and was immediately taken back to the throne room and interrogation. The same hand had hovered before her face and had caused her so much pain. Panic erupted in her chest.

“No!” she exclaimed, turning her body to the side, hiding her hand. “Don’t you dare touch me!” The hand stopped and then retracted just as slowly.

Without a word, he rose to his feet and looked out the door. “Commander,” he called, “send for the medic…again.”

Moira’s head shot up, her eyes wide. “No,” she said sternly. “Not now.”  She saw him turn his head, and she could’ve sworn she felt his shock. That’s what it was, right? His emotions? She recalled feeling sentiments that were not her own during her time here, and now, she also remembered being able to read people’s emotions as a child, though she had not been aware of it. She had often sensed her father’s recurring displeasure that typically revolved around her, or the boredom felt by some crew members aboard the Star Destroyers.

Before she could ponder any further over this, Kylo spoke again. “Miss Hux, you need medical attention.” His tone was condescending, as if he was speaking to a child. It was quite irritating.

“Do you think I give a shit?” she asked, matching his tone. “Take me to General Hux. There is something that we need to discuss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I apologize if that was a little too dark for some of you, although unfortunately, this may not be the last time Moira entertains thoughts like these.  
> I hope that you still liked this chapter! Thank you to everyone who has given me kudos!  
> Please, please, PLEASE review! I need to know what I'm doing right and wrong!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

If a tempest could take a human form, it would have found its host in Moira. With anger evident on her face, Moira marched down the halls, every measured step carrying her closer to her destination. A towel that she had grabbed from her refresher was wrapped around her wounded hand, staunching some, if not most, of the flow of blood. She could still feel thin rivulets of the warm, sticky liquid escaping through her fingers, seeping through the towel and dripping to the polished floor, yet she pressed on, her hand being the least of her worries.

Various personnel hastily stepped to the side to allow her to pass. They either sensed her urgency, saw the look on her face, or were just desperate to avoid the individual who was walking alongside her. It was most likely the latter reason, though Moira couldn’t care less. Kylo Ren’s height undoubtedly allowed him to take longer strides, but he remained at Moira’s pace, exempting her from having to sprint to keep up with him. Now that she was right next to him, the difference in stature was apparent; Moira’s head barely reached his shoulder.

She pressed the towel even harder against her skin, producing a sharp pain that made her wince. Her companion noticed this. “I do not see how this could not have waited. You ought to have that treated first. I cannot have you bleeding out before we even reach the general.” He sounded thoroughly annoyed.

Moira, who had been doing her very best to ignore him, rolled her eyes. She was already pissed off past reason, so his attitude only served to further aggravate her.

“Exsanguination can take anywhere from 20 seconds to a few minutes if a major artery or vein is punctured,” she recited robotically.  “In my case, it appears that the glass did not cut deep enough to damage neither my ulnar artery nor any of the median nerves. If it had, I would have been on the floor minutes ago. I still might need stitches…” She blinked. _Woah, where did she pull that one from?_ She became aware of him staring at her, so clearing her throat, she hastily continued.

“And if you are that concerned about my overall well-being, then why haven’t you tried to stop me? You could honestly just pick me up and carry me to the med bay right now if you wanted to, though I’d absolutely kick and scream the entire way.” From her peripheral vision, she saw the flashes of astonishment on people’s faces as they passed by. It was obvious that no one else here besides Hux dared to talk back to Kylo Ren in this manner; they probably feared for their lives, and rightly so. Moira, on the other hand, saw that there was no point in hiding her displeasure. She had nothing else to lose besides her head-and maybe her hand.

“There was no point in stopping you; you were adamant about seeing Hux. I also do not feel like carrying you…again.” Moira raised her eyebrows as she turned to appraise him.

“Aw, you’ve carried me before? You’re _such_ a gentleman,” she said sweetly, though sarcasm dripped from every word. “Was I heavy?” If she didn’t know any better, she could almost sense him rolling his eyes, whatever they looked like.

“You were much more tolerable.” Moira nearly stopped in her tracks, even more startled than she had been after learning that he had carried her. Was he being sarcastic right back? She felt a small smug smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

 _Well then, two can play at this game._ She faked a pout and brought her hands to her chest in a mock gesture of hurt. “That was cruel, _milord_ ,” she whined, slipping back into her natural accent on the last word. “You wound me.”

“You already have done that yourself, or at least tried to.” He said it so casually and suddenly that Moira actually stopped this time. He continued on a few more steps until he seemed to realize that she was no longer next to him, and stopped as well. He slowly turned to face Moira, who was staring at him in shock.

This one had actually hurt, surprisingly, his words somehow managing to cut deeper than the glass had. Moira actually felt a physical pang grip her heart, and she gave a shuddering gasp. The blood began to roar in her ears as her vision darkened around the edges. She felt like she was about to throw up or pass out, or maybe even both.

She was vaguely aware of the wary or concerned glances people spared her as they passed, which quickly turned fearful at the sight of Kylo Ren, who was slowly walking back to her. Moira refused to look up at him as he approached, choosing instead to stare at his chest. She focused on the dark fabric, hoping that it would distract her from the bouts of nausea threatening to overpower her. _Don’t puke on him, don’t puke on him_ , she thought. She hoped that she didn’t vomit in front of him or on him, as that would not only be _so_ embarrassing, but also the perfect way to end a terrible day.

He stopped right in front her, not saying a word, only staring down at her with that impenetrable gaze, from which she wanted to do nothing more than shy away. She continued to stare at his chest, which was only inches away from her nose. He was so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his body. She took small comfort in that, drawing on his vitality, which she hoped would give her the strength she sorely needed. She drew in deep, slow breaths, attempting to calm herself down. She closed her eyes and tried to think of calming thoughts.

At first, there was darkness, and then there was light, which was quickly followed by the sound of an ocean. She could now smell the salt in the water, carried by the breeze that caressed her face. She could feel the smooth white sand under her bare feet, crinkling whenever she bent her toes. She could now see the water and the familiar sunset that painted the sky with a myriad of colors. The very sight of it brought a smile to her face as nostalgia filled her. There was only one thing missing. Then she heard laughter, a sound even more familiar than the sea. There it was. It carried over the roar of the waves hitting the rocks nearby and the echoes of flutes drums, filling her heart with warmth, but also pain. That was how she knew that this memory she had conjured was real, and it calmed her. _Live for her._ She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, found herself not looking out at the ocean, but once again at the broad chest of Kylo Ren. She did not know how long she had been standing there like that; people were probably staring, but she didn’t care. Her head was clear, and her stomach calm.

Releasing a breath that she did not know that she was holding, Moira slowly raised her head to meet his gaze. He was still staring down at her, and his head was tilted ever so slightly to the right, as if he was studying her or anticipating something.

“Please don’t tell him,” she whispered shakily. Even though she no longer felt sick, she still felt fear. “He _can’t_ know what happened.” He tilted his head even more, clearly curious.

 “Why not? How else shall you explain _this_?” he asked, referring to her hand. She sighed.

“I don’t know, but if he does find out, I know that he’ll never let me out of his sight again. If I can get straight to the point though, there will be no need to explain, that is, if _you_ don’t interfere.” She crossed her arms over her chest (it felt awkward with the towel) as she said this and tried to sound stern, which proved to be difficult. Under normal circumstances, Moira never wanted to be this close to Kylo Ren, but she knew that she had to stand firm. She was on a mission after all.

“Why would I dare to intrude upon your familial quarrels? It is none of my business,” he said flatly. Moira found herself raising an eyebrow in disbelief. _Was he serious?_

“You ‘dared to intrude’ upon my privacy, so why should this be any different?” Her own brashness surprised her, yet at the same time, she was not in the best of moods. Then again, she _had_ known Poe Dameron for years; he was finally starting to rub off on her, for better or for worse.

“Would you even be here right now if I hadn’t?” he asked flippantly. _Is he actually asking for a kick to the balls, if he has any?_

Moira grit her teeth, struggling with the compulsion to either lash out at him or simply cry. _He’s waiting for your reaction; he’s testing you_ , she realized. She inhaled slowly and rolled her shoulders back, trying to get rid of the developing tension there. If he was looking to be the object of her rage, he would be sorely disappointed. Her ire was reserved for one specific person right now. Knowing that neither of her previous options would get her anywhere, she went for another alternative.

“You know,” she said as casually as she could, tilting her head to the side to match his posture, “you never gave me an actual explanation for why you came. Would you care to elaborate?”

She could sense his hesitation; he hadn’t been expecting this question. “Perhaps at another time.” And with that, he dramatically spun on his heel and continued down the hall, indicating the end to their conversation. _Seriously?_ Moira rolled her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time within the past five minutes.

“Oh really? Well then, I’ll be looking forward to it,” she murmured coquettishly before practically running to catch up with him.

* * *

As they reached a familiar set of guarded blast doors, Kylo spoke up again. “Because of your impetuosity, I am now being forced to appear at a meeting that I had no intention of attending in the first place. However, _this_ might be entertaining.”  Ready to fire back with a sarcastic comment, Moira was then struck by something else that he had said.

“Wait, you don’t have to go to those? Aren’t you under the general’s command?” She remembered the tantrum he had thrown over not being informed of her promotion, but she realized that this might not have been the right thing to say. To her surprise, she heard something that sounded like a snort.

“You’ll come to find that I am not entirely under the First Order’s jurisdiction,” he said, contempt discernible in his voice. Moira frowned. _What was that supposed to mean?_

Before she could ask, they had reached the door. Moira stepped forward, hiding her wrapped hand behind her back. “Let me in,” she demanded, hoping that the obvious displeasure in her demeanor would be enough to convince them to open the door. Unfortunately, they did not budge.

“I am sorry ma’am, but you are not authorized to-.” Moira snapped.

“Listen here, you bucketheads. I have had a pretty messed up day, so I’m _really_ not in the mood for this _kung_. You’re either going to move or _be_ moved.” She was aware that she had gotten up in the troopers’ personal space, standing merely inches away from them, and she sensed them raise their blasters ever so slightly. Things could turn ugly fast.

“But _I_ am authorized to enter,” Kylo then spoke up, moving to stand in front of her, “and she is with me, so step aside.” His tone left no room for argument, and the stormtroopers did not hesitate to obey him.

Moira heard the door slide up, and Kylo stepped forward. She followed, still holding her hands behind her back.

“Kylo Ren,” came General Hux’s voice, dripping with irritation and disdain. “You had better have a valid excuse for…” His voice trailed off when he saw who stepped out from behind Kylo. “Moira?”

She was once again standing in Hux’s office, but this time, she was not alone. Besides Kylo, there were three other people in the room, yet there weren’t. They were holograms, judging by the bluish tint to their slightly transparent forms. Their backs were to her, standing before Hux, who had been sitting at his desk. He rose slowly, the scowl on his face melting into a confused frown.

Moira was already striding forward, her eyes set solely on the general. Kylo Ren, much to her surprise, made no move to restrain her as she brushed past him. The holograms turned around to look at her, but Moira was not paying them any attention; she passed right through one of them. Considering the gasp of indignation that followed, her action had been found offensive. As she neared the desk, she let the towel, which had been reduced to nothing more than a bloody rag, drop to the floor to allow her hand to close into a fist.

She stopped in front of the desk and stared at Hux. Hux stared back. It was so quiet that one could have heard a pin drop. As seconds of terse silence passed, Hux slowly began to pale, realization dawning in his eyes. He knew why was she was here. Moira’s fists clenched even tighter. “Moira,” he began, but Moira held up a hand, her bloody hand, to silence him. His eyes bulged with horror. Slowly and deliberately, she reached out that hand and trailed it along the edge of the desk. Nobody said anything. Nobody moved.

After she had brushed her hand along the length of the desk, Moira reached out to grab something that had caught her attention. A hologram of a _Resurgent_ -class Star Destroyer was being projected above the desk, hovering lazily in the air. Moira picked up the datapad lying next to the projector. From it, she was able to view the ship’s schematics and manipulate the image before her.

“Young lady, just what do you think you’re doing?” one of the men in the hologram protested. “There is classified material on that!” When Moira began to wander away from the desk, still holding the tablet, the man turned to face Hux. “General!” he exclaimed in a beseeching tone, but Hux simply shook his head warningly. The image of the battleship suddenly became enlarged, offering a better view of the hull and bridge tower as Moira zoomed in on the tablet. Then, smaller icons appeared around the model, datafiles, which Moira proceeded to search through. The only sound in the room that could be heard was absentminded humming from Moira as she studied the diagrams and data presented to her.

The holoprojector sitting on Hux’s desk now displayed the file containing information about the ship’s propulsion systems. “Hmm, a single III-a1a primary hypermatter-annihilation reactor. Impressive,” Moira murmured from her position in the room. The files continued to pass by at a normal rate, until she got to the engines. Here, she paused, looking up at them from the tablet, frowning. “I assume that you men are the head engineers?” she inquired of them. She was now speaking freely in her natural accent; it would help to make them take her seriously. They all nodded.

“Yes,” the one in the center answered arrogantly. “I represent Kuat-Entralla Engineering, and my associates here individually represent Sienar-Jaemus Fleet Systems and Kuat Drive Yards.” At this, a knowing smile appeared on Moira’s face, though it was actually closer to a smirk.

“Ah, yes, Kuat-Entralla Engineering. My father used to talk about you. He said that you were all a pack of fools,” she said casually, her smile now completely transformed into a smirk. Hux winced, while the men before him just looked affronted.

“Excuse me?” the Kuat-Entralla representative spluttered. “Who is your father, young lady, for I can tell you that Kuat-Entralla had produced many of the Empire’s finest ships-.”

“Yes, I know,” she interrupted. “I’ve studied the _Executor_ , and she was indeed a fine ship, a beauty even, until she was destroyed by one A-wing starfighter. Do you know why?” Not waiting for an answer, she continued. “It’s because _your_ company built a faulty command bridge. It was too tall, and therefore, left its deflector shields unprotected. Those were destroyed, allowing a single A-wing to smash into the bridge, bringing the entire ship down with it,” she stated, dragging a finger through the air to represent the A-wing. “Oh, and do I even need to mention the Death Star, no wait, both Death Star _s_?” she added. Silence. “I thought so, therefore, I rest my case,” Moira said, still smirking. “However, I see that the command bridge of this ship has been reduced in size and is better protected. I’ve always hated those conning towers,” she muttered, more to herself. “ _But_ ,” she said louder, looking back up from the datapad, “I am drifting from my initial point. Now that I know who is producing these ships, this derisible detail does not surprise me.” The SJFS engineer narrowed his eyes.

“And what would that be, pray tell?” he asked. Moira looked straight at him.

 “Why in all the bloody nine hells are the main engines attached to magnetic turbines and an acceleration compensator?” she demanded. “Do you realize how much counter-thrust would be required to execute the slightest maneuver? Excluding light-speed, Star Destroyers aren’t meant to go any faster than a TIE! At least a TIE can travel in more than a straight line; this couldn’t!”

The engineers looked flustered. “In our defense, ma’am, we entertained the possibility that if the offensive and defensive systems were damaged in battle, the ship would at least have one final method of attack, a last resort, of course,” the KDY representative interjected assertively. Moira sighed, shaking her head.

“So, essentially suicide then. You men and your bravado. I would call it stupidity, but I am not one to seek glory in death, so what do I know?” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “Other than that, this model is quite remarkable, especially in its armament. Hmm, the _Finalizer_ , huh?” she asked, glancing over at her brother, who was looking at her in admiration and shock.

“Yes, yes,” he said hastily in an attempt to recover himself. “It is my newest flagship, and it is in orbit right now, actually. She recently left the shipyards of Kuat as the best in the First Order’s Navy,” he said, pride now in his voice. “This meeting was just about final inspections...what are you doing?” Moira looked up from typing something into the datapad, a bit startled.

“Oh, I was just adding a few recommendations for the ship. In my opinion, there should be an emergency bridge built into the existing structure, preferably in the midsection. If the primary bridge were to be taken out of action, there could still be standby personnel to take control of the ship. You don’t want to have another _Executor_ , do you? Here,” she said, handing the slightly bloody datapad back to her brother. “It’s just something to think about.” Hux took the tablet slowly and placed it gingerly on his desk.

“You seem to know a lot about your ships, girl,” the Kuat-Entralla representative said cautiously. “Are you an engineer here?” Moira shook her head.

“In another life perhaps, but no, I’m just a girl who’s smarter than you,” she replied nonchalantly. She flashed the men a charming smile and turned her back on their stunned faces. She sat down in one of the chairs facing the desk and reclining against the back of it. Hux was staring down at his desk, pressing his lips together, as if he was fighting a smile. Then, he looked up to face the holograms.

“Well, gentlemen,” he said in a formal tone, “That will be all for today. You are now dismissed.” All three men went to attention.

“All hail the First Order!” they intoned.  They saluted the general, and as they did, the one closest to Moira, the KDY representative, glanced in her direction. She winked at him and waved flirtatiously. The man’s eyes slightly widened, and he swallowed quickly, hastening to end his transmission. 

When all three had disappeared, Hux whirled towards her. “Moira, your hand!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with concern. “What happened? Never mind, don’t tell me. I’ll alert a medic at once!” Fear seized her heart.

“NO!” Moira shouted fiercely, making him jump. Seeing his reaction, Moira forced herself to calm down. “No,” she whispered. Her brother looked at her like she had started speaking strange tongues.

“Moira, your hand is _bleeding_.”

 “Yes, that’s what happens when blood exits through a break in the skin, and in this instance, a minor laceration. It should be stopping soon though; it takes about two to five minutes for blood to begin clotting after a flesh wound. However, I did not come here seeking medical treatment, Armitage.” He simply stared at her for a few more seconds before sighing in defeat.

“Ah, yes,” he whispered. “I know.”  He then slowly sank into his chair. He placed his head in his hands, rubbing his temples for what felt like eternity before looking back up at Moira. He now looked years older, as if a heavy weight had fallen upon his shoulders. His eyes were filled with so much misery that Moira was shocked into silence. “Before you say anything,” he began carefully, “please know that I had nothing to do with what was done to you. I did not even know what was really happening until it was too late. I-.”

“What did you _think_ was happening, Armitage?” Moira asked, her voice cold. She stared at him icily. She did not know whether to believe him or not.

“Father told me that you had been sent away to an esteemed academy on Rakata Prime, where you would continue your education. He put it as ‘making use of your “gift.”’ Little did I know what that actually meant.” There was disgust in his voice. “I tried to contact you at the academy; the place actually existed, but you would never respond. I thought that to be odd, for you always returned my calls and messages when I was off with Father. I tried expressing my concerns to Father, who was also becoming increasingly harder to reach, but he simply told me that to prevent their students from being distracted from their studies, the academy banned all contact with the outside world, including visitations. That made me somewhat suspicious, but I never questioned the matter again, until…” He paused to close his eyes, and when he opened them, he looked at Moira imploringly. “I know that you have every right to despise me, but please believe me when I tell you-.” Moira shook her head angrily.

“I can’t! I don’t know if I can! You lied straight to my face when I first got here; you never told me the truth, leaving me to find out in the worst way imaginable!” She was beginning to shake again. “Do you want to know what actually happened to me on Rakata Prime?” Not waiting for an answer, she raged on. “I don’t know what kind of academy this was, but it certainly wasn’t _academic_. I was nearly tortured to the point of insanity by your _benevolent_ Empire, First Order, or whoever the Hell was in charge at the time. If I displeased them, I was punished, and I was punished quite often.” Tears were now trailing down Moira’s cheeks, and her heart was threatening to pound its way out of her chest. “I would scream for them to stop, that they were hurting me, but they didn’t care, Armitage. _Father_ didn’t care. He never told me why they were doing it. Did you know, Armitage? Do _you_ know why?” General Hux’s face was the picture of horror and guilt. He looked down.

“You were never on Rakata Prime,” he murmured. Moira narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, I wasn’t? Well, where was I then, Brendol? Tell me everything you know about what happened to me, and let it be the truth this time.” Her brother winced, and then looked over at Kylo Ren. He became stern.

“Leave us, Ren. This is a highly classified and private matter.” Kylo seemed to draw himself up a little more.

“Classified, you say? Does the Supreme Leader know of this ‘highly classified’ information?” Hux looked at him with an expression torn between annoyance and fear.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. At this, Kylo began to stalk forward until he was standing inches away from Moira.

“If he does not know, then shouldn’t it be brought to his attention?” Hux now scowled at him, color rising to his face. Sensing the looming quarrel, Moira did something that affirmed that she was probably going mad: she reached out and placed her hand lightly on Kylo’s arm, literally stopping him in his tracks. The Knight froze. His helmet slowly tilted down in the direction of the now slightly bloody hand and remained there. Before she lost her nerve, Moira spoke up.

“Please don’t do this,” she said softly, shaking her head. “You said yourself that you weren’t going to interfere on familial affairs. I think that this counts, don’t you?” She saw him look up at her. For a few moments, no one neither spoke nor moved, until Kylo roughly wrenched his arm away and turned around, marching towards the door _. Thank you_ , Moira thought, watching him leave, and just for a second, she thought she saw him pause mid-step before continuing out, but it could have just been her imagination. As soon as the door closed behind him, she sank back into the chair, sighing loudly. Her brother just stared at her in astonishment.

“What did you do to him?” he asked in disbelief. Moira just shrugged, being in wonder herself.

“I have no idea,” she replied, her stomach fluttering. Her hand still tingled from the brief contact it had with Ren. He had felt warm, and it reminded her of the episode in the hall not too long ago, of how she had felt the heat coming off of him during their close proximity. The memory caused warmth to suddenly and mysteriously rise to her cheeks, and she was alarmed and confused by this. She shook her head again in an attempt to clear it and returned to the central topic at hand.

“So the truth, Brendol. Now.” He looked very uncomfortable now, but cleared his throat and began.

“I do not know much,” he admitted, “but I do know where you were. It was shortly after I was promoted to the rank of Second Lieutenant and assigned to a ship when we received a distress call from Geonosis. Apparently, there were Imperial/First Order personnel there who had become engaged in combat with Republic troops. I thought this to be odd, for the planet had been sterilized more than thirty years ago. Nonetheless, we still went, and found ourselves in the middle of battle upon arrival out of light speed. It was absolute chaos. As it turned out, word had gotten out to the Republic that there was an Imperial research facility on the planet’s surface that had gone unnoticed for years. To this day, I still do not know who fed them this information.

We were outnumbered. There were already two Imperial ships there trying to prevent enemy troop transports from entering the planet’s atmosphere, but they weren’t doing much. For every one of our Star Destroyers there were three Republican battlecruisers. Our bridge attempted to make contact with the facility to notify them of this, and I was surprised to be answered by Father. He commanded for troops along with a private shuttle to be brought to the planet’s surface, but when we tried to explain to him that it would be futile, he began raving about the necessity to save Project Abeloth. Confused, we asked him what Project Abeloth was, but he refused to answer, saying that it was classified. Finally, I became so stressed that I demanded the Commander to let me speak with him. I hoped to convince him to be patient until more reinforcements arrived, but then he finally cracked. He said that if nothing else would persuade me to help, then maybe what he told me next would.” Hux paused, as if preparing himself for what came next, and Moira felt a twinge of apprehension in her gut. She knew what was coming, yet she wasn’t so sure if she wanted to hear it now.

“He revealed that _you_ were Project Abeloth, Moira, and so you needed to get out of there right away.” Moira released a shuddering sigh and closed her eyes. She tightened her grip on the arm rests, sending a jarring pain through her left hand and up her arm. She had been expecting this, so why did it still hurt so much?

“What happened next?” she asked, her voice raw with emotion.

“I admit that I briefly lost control of my temper. I demanded to know what you were doing there and why I had been lied to. I was so angry that I was practically screaming at a commlink in the middle of a chaotic bridge. Then, I realized how foolish my efforts were, as yelling and cursing were not going to save you. So, I entreated the commanding officer to deploy troops to the surface if only our fighters could clear a path. I said that it was of the upmost importance, that Project Abeloth was important to our future. He was dubious of the whole affair, but he eventually yielded. I was the epitome of anxiety during that time. Hours had seemed to excruciatingly pass by when we received a transmission from one the ships guarding the atmosphere that informed us that the facility had been taken by enemy troops, and that we were to retreat back to the Unknown Regions where we were to be safe. I could not believe what I was hearing. I pleaded with the Commander to send more troops, but he denied my request. We fled, and I was forced deal with the consequences. I never found out what they were doing with you; only the Republic knows now-and the dead.” Moira felt her heart clench.

“The Republic,” she whispered. “Leia.” Yet again, she was reminded of who the real liars were. She sensed that her brother was telling the truth, as convoluted as it was. It had taken a twist of the arm, but he had been honest with her. The truth should have honestly felt liberating, but unfortunately, it was the exact opposite.

She lucidly remembered being asleep in her quarters on the _Resurrection_ when the Republic attacked. She remembered being woken by the alarm, followed by the soldiers that had burst into her room shortly after. They had been just as surprised as she was, but they had been gentle. She had followed them willingly out into the halls, knowing that retaliation would get her nowhere. They had tried to hide the bodies of the stormtroopers who had been guarding her room from her, but she had seen them anyway. She _remembered_ that as much as the new memories. She also specifically remembered finding out that her father had been captured (that wasn’t false) and her brother had escaped (that was also true). However, she had thought that they had all been on the same ship; she was wrong. Those must have been the false memories. Hux had never meant to leave her, but still…

“Oh, yes, they know,” Hux was saying. “Your glorified _General_ knows. They were the ones that refused to tell you, weren’t they?” Moira looked sharply back up at him.

“She-she must have done it to protect me,” she protested, but why was she? Why was she defending someone who had decided to take away two years’ worth of memories and implant false ones? Why was she defending someone who had lied to her? _It’s simple really; she saved your life._

It was true. Leia had still rescued her from that terrible place when Hux couldn’t. She had found the remainder of Moira’s family, and she had given Moira a new purpose in life. But what if it was all a ploy? What if the Resistance, and by extension the Republic, had been using her, because of this Project Abeloth, whatever it was? What if they knew _what_ she really was, and were using it to their own advantage?

 _No,_ she thought. _No_. Yet, her heart starting pounding. Her brother, obviously sensing the conflict within her (it was probably plain on her face), and pressed on.

“To protect you?” he scoffed in disdain. “Correct me if I am wrong, but she is the one who did _this_ to you in the first place.” Hearing it from his own mouth felt like a punch to the stomach. Moira gasped as if she had actually been punched.

“No,” she murmured. “Stop it.” Either Hux hadn’t heard or didn’t care, because he kept going.

“She made the decision to steal your memories, to alter your mind! What if they had not stopped with the time on Geonosis? What if they had made you forget your entire childhood? What if _she_ had made you forget _me_? You could have become the Resistance’s secret weapon, and who’s to say that they hadn’t started already? You were or would have been just another experiment to them…” _Just another experiment._ Everything else faded away except those words, harsh, yet with some truth. His words had impacted her deeply, because he was probably right, if not completely so. Moira had been fighting back the torrent of emotions that had been building inside until he had spoken those last words. _Experiment_. And then, she snapped.

“SHUT UP!” she screamed, reaching up to cover her ears. A cracking noise could be heard through the thin wall of flesh, as well as a gasp. She could also hear her name being shouted as well has her own screams, but she was past comprehending words as she fell forward into a crouch, clutching her head. She felt someone grab her arms and shaking her ever so slightly and shouting something. Her eyes were tightly shut as she shook her head and continued to scream. It just hurt so much- her head and her heart.

The sound of more voices reached her ears, but she could not make out the words. However, as soon as she felt more than one pair of hands on her, she woke up.

Figures in white surrounded her, reaching out for her, trying to hold her steady. Their voices were meant to sound soothing, but Moira knew better, especially once she saw one brandishing a syringe. Instantly, her mind raced back to the facility on Geonosis where she had been assailed by needle-wielding monsters in white coats, and an old yet fresh fear, the same fear that she had momentarily felt earlier when Hux had suggested a visit to the med bay, resurfaced.

“NO!” she screamed hysterically. “Get away from me!” She lashed out, kicking, scratching, and even biting in a panic-stricken attempt to get away, but it was all for naught. She was sobbing now as she was wrestled to the ground, rendered powerless by fear. Then, she spotted her brother standing off to the side, his face as white as the uniforms of her attackers.

“Armitage!” she shrieked, “don’t let them take me away, please! They’re gonna hurt me again!” However, General Hux remained rooted to the spot, looking at her as if he did not recognize her. “Armitage!” she screamed. Then, she felt a sharp pain in her neck, and almost immediately, she began to feel dizzy. Her eyes grew heavier, and her movements became sluggish.

As she was lifted to her feet, she happened to look in the direction of the window behind Hux’s desk. There was a crack in the glass that hadn’t been there before, and that was the last thing Moira saw before she blacked out.

* * *

 

 The next few days (at least it felt like it) that passed were a living Hell for Moira. She was in the place of her nightmares, in the place of her memories.

She had first woken up in a small white room lying flat on her back on a slab on the wall. Sitting up, she found herself to be clothed in a familiar white gown and the palm of her left hand to be stitched up. She frowned at it, slightly confused, and looked around the rest of the room.

There was a chair in one corner. The room was windowless, except for the long rectangular mirror on the wall across from her bed. All she could see in it was her reflection, but Moira knew better. She knew exactly what this place was, and that was what sent her into a frenzy.

She leapt off her bed and lunged at what she knew to be a window, screaming at the top of her lungs. She was like a wild thing, beating against it with her fists, shouting to be let out. “You can’t keep me in here again!” she yelled. “I’m not gonna do anything for you this time, you hear me? Nothing! I’m done!” Spittle was flying from her mouth.

She then turned away from the glass, and in a rage, began tearing at her stitches and clawing at her skin. The effect was immediate. A hidden door slid up, and four uniformed men ran in, demanding her to stop. She slapped one, leaving a bloody handprint on his cheek. After that, they got rough. Three wrestled her writhing body to the floor while the other produced another hypodermic needle. He plunged it into her neck, knocking her out right away.

The next time she woke, she was back on the bed, her hand was stitched back up, but this time, both of her hands were shackled to the bed. A wire protruded from a vein in her arm, probably containing nutrient supplements. _The wires._ So, Moira spent the next few hours thrashing around, screaming bloody murder and other expletives until her vocal chords became raw. She lay in silence for the rest of the time, staring at the wall ahead of her. The more time she spent laying there, the more she remembered. She had passed many days in a similar room on Geonosis, watched in a similar way by the researchers. All she needed now was-.

The door opened, allowing Doctor Tarly and his droid assistant to enter. Moira glanced once over in their direction, then looked back up at the ceiling. The sound of the chair being dragged over echoed throughout the room. Tarly sat down before her, but she still refused to look at him.

“Miss Hux, do you know where you are?” He sounded wary, but curious at the same time. He sounded a lot like _them_ when they had questioned her, but this time, Moira fought back the emotions churning inside of her, for what good would they do her now? There was no use breaking more glass, although she would at least be able to see who was watching her on the other side of it. It was better to remain detached.

“Hell,” she croaked, still staring at the ceiling. She could feel his surprise, sympathy, and anxiety all at once. It felt strange, and any other time, Moira would have been afraid, but right now, she felt nothing.

“No,” Tarly said patiently, “of course you aren’t in Hell, Miss Hux. You are in the rehabilitation division of our medical facility. You have experienced an episode of acute primary psychosis, resulting in a psychotic break. It is known that you had suffered severe psychological trauma as a child, and-.” Moira scoffed, finally turning her head to look at him.

“Oh, so you know about that too now? What else do you know? Did you learn all of the little details?” Tarly actually grimaced.

“I know that your memories had also been tampered with, though I was not told how. Now that they have returned, you are beginning to experience the side-effects. The side-effects of the trauma that you had gone through and forgotten are now returning with those memories. I fear that your mental health is suffering from these effects.” _Tell me something I don’t know._

“So what, I’m crazy now? I’m going to be locked up here forever to vegetate until I die? In case you didn’t know, I was held in a room similar to this one for nearly two years of my life, and it wasn’t exactly a picnic.”

“You are not going to die here, Moira. You will be given proper medication and observed to see if any relapses occur.” _Wonderful_.

The chance of having another mental breakdown honestly scared Moira. She had nearly experienced another one when Doctor Tarly had arrived; any small thing could trigger another one. She was losing her mind. She heard voices in her head that were not hers, she apparently had powers that she could not control, and worst of all, she was emotionally and mentally damaged. She now felt like a ticking time bomb that had the potential to explode at any given moment. She was terrified of herself. Maybe it was for the best that she was left in here. But that meant that she would be watched and who was to say that the First Order wouldn’t run their own tests on her?

She squeezed her eyes shut and began to focus on her breathing again as a calming mechanism. She felt like she was on the edge of having another nervous breakdown or a panic attack. What the _kriff_ was wrong with her?

Well, there was one person that she knew of who could probably answer her questions, and it wasn’t Doctor Tarly, a medical droid, General Hux, or any other doctor on this stupid base. However, Moira did not even want to entertain that idea. She had much bigger problems at hand as she fought to keep back the panic rising in her chest. _Tests, tests, tests, more tests. They will never let you go._

Doctor Tarly, on the other hand, noticed what she was doing. “Miss Hux,” he asked, his tone increasingly worried, “are you alright?” Moira whimpered, shaking her head. _They will put you in another chair and shock you senseless_ , a voice whispered. _They will remove the skin from your arms to analyze the tissue. They will beat you; they will break you._

“Let me out of here,” she gasped. “Let me go.” Tarly shook his head.

“I am very sorry, Moira, but we can’t, not until-.”

“No!” Moira shrieked. “You don’t understand! I have to get out of here! They are going to hurt me again; you’ve got to help me! Please!”

“No one is going to hurt you here, Moira,” Doctor Tarly said gently “We’re going to help you get better, starting with this.” He motioned to the droid, who came closer. It was holding another syringe. At the sight of it, Moira backed herself into the wall as much as she could.

“You dirty rotten lying _sleemo_! You promised that you weren’t gonna hurt me!” Doctor Tarly’s gaze was placating and sympathetic.

“This is a narcotic. It will help you relax. It’ll only help you sleep.” No, she didn’t want to go to sleep, and she realized what she had to do to prevent that.

“You can’t!” she cried, panic and desperation in her voice. “Not yet anyways. I have to talk to him first!” Tarly frowned.

“Talk to who?” he asked. Moira looked him directly in the eyes.

“Kylo Ren,” she whispered. “Get me Kylo Ren.”

* * *

 

Moira was staring at the wall again for what felt like hours when she felt something outside of the room. It felt like a cloud of darkness had just appeared, threatening to choke everything around it. She knew what, or more accurately, _who_ it was.

She turned her head just as the door slid up to reveal a lone dark robed figure in a familiar mask. Kylo Ren ducked through the doorway and stopped. The sound of the door closing cut through the intense silence. It stretched painfully until Moira, not one for awkward silences, finally broke it.

“Well, it’s about time you showed up. I thought that you weren’t going to come at all,” she said casually, looking up at the ceiling. “Did you run out of consoles to destroy?” Silence.

“You wanted to speak to me.” It wasn’t a question.

Moira chuckled darkly. “I know it sounds crazy, but yes, I do. I guess this solidifies my rapid descent into madness then.” She then shifted to prop herself onto her elbow, as that was as much movement as the restraints allowed. “Are you just going to keep standing there? It’s rather rude, don’t you think?” Much to her surprise, he moved to stand before her, though he kept his distance. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

“What do you want?” he asked, his modulated voice hinting at no emotions except for indifference. That irked her somewhat, and she became serious again.

“Answers,” she said simply. She craned her neck to look past him at the glass. “We’re being watched, right?” He only nodded. “I know,” Moira whispered, still staring at the glass. “I can feel their fear.” It was true. She could not see them, but she could feel their emotions. They had already been afraid of her, but that fear increased tenfold when Kylo Ren had arrived on the scene.

Kylo cocked his head to the side, but said nothing. Then, he waved his hand, and Moira’s restraints came apart. She gasped and jumped back against the wall. She looked up at him in disbelief, unable to speak.

“How about now?” Kylo asked. “How do they feel?” Still in shock, Moira initially did not know what he was talking about. Then, she understood. Rubbing her chafed wrists, he concentrated on the outside of the room and those who stood there. What she found made her snort and grin.

“They’re scared shitless now.” Kylo nodded his head.

“You could put it that way. They have no need to fear though; you are no danger to them or to me.” Moira raised an eyebrow.

“What’s that supposed to mean? If you haven’t noticed, my emotional state right now is equivalent to a seismic charge ready to explode.” He actually stepped closer.

“I know. I’ve felt it. Your burgeoning Force signature is difficult to ignore. In fact,” he said, crossing his arms, “it is impossible to do so.” Moira frowned, confused.

“My burgeoning _what_?”

“Your Force-signature, or more accurately, your presence in the Force. It had been subdued before, but now that the shield has been removed, it is slowly returning, along with your abilities.” Moira shifted uncomfortably.

“That’s…actually what I wanted to ask you about.” She drew her knees close to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, now feeling nervous and vulnerable. _He can still hurt you_ , she reminded herself. She rested her chin on her knees, looking up at him. “What am I? What is wrong with me? I thought that you of all people could tell me that.” She watched him shift from one foot to another, and she read that as uncertainty.

“First, there is nothing wrong with you,” he finally said with a harshness that surprised Moira. “Remember that.” She nodded, hoping that that would entice him to continue.

“You were born with both a gift and a curse: sensitivity to the Force, an energy field that connects all living things in the galaxy. Not everyone has it, and those who do are presented with a burden not borne by many. They have been granted with special abilities that are considered to be on the supernatural level, and that can produce fear in those who are ignorant enough who do not try to understand. This can cause many Force-sensitives to feel isolated and afraid of abilities that they themselves do not understand, that is, if they do not receive proper training. They can become a danger to others and themselves, and that appears to be the predicament that you are currently in.” Moira caved in even more on herself.

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “Actually, I’m terrified. I don’t want this.” Kylo stepped even closer. She was unable to look at him.

“No one truly does,” he said quietly, “but I can help you understand it, to control it. You need control, lest you end up destroying something larger than a mirror…or a window.” Moira winced.

“So that was me, huh?” He nodded.

“I will teach you how to control and harness your nascent abilities so you are no longer a threat to yourself and the rest of this base. Your powers will only grow stronger as time passes, as will your susceptibility to your emotions; they go hand in hand. I cannot promise that it will relieve your emotional pain, but I can promise that you will learn how to channel that pain, that perceived weakness, and make it your strength. Let me help you, Moira. Let me help you become who you were meant to be.” At this, Moira looked up at him in surprise; it was the first time that he had said her name.

She stared right into the black holes where his eyes were. Should she trust him? He _did_ try to kill her. What if this was all another trick? What if she was being used again just for her abilities? To her surprise, he shook his head.

“You don’t have to trust me, but this is not a trick.” He held out a gloved hand to her. “I can take you away from here right now, if that is what you truly desire. However, if you wish to remain…” His voice trailed off, but his hand remained where it was. Moira stared at it, and then looked back at him.

“You removed my restraints,” she said. “Any chance that you could remove that mask too? I need to know that you are being honest with me.” The hand closed into a fist. Realizing that she may have gone too far, Moira shrank back and closed her eyes, waiting to hear the crackling of his saber followed by her swift death. It never came. She opened her eyes.

“No,” he just said. “The helmet remains. I can only give you my word.” The hand opened again. “I will not wait forever.”

Moira bit her lip. This was her chance, right here. She definitely wanted to leave, yet she was afraid of the unknown. What would happen to her from here on out? How drastically would her life change than it already had? Who or what was she truly meant to become? However, she wanted answers, and if this was how she was going to get them…

Taking a deep breath, she nodded and reached out to take his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you to all who have read this story, bookmarked it, and given it kudos! Thank you, thank you, thank you!  
> I also have an account on FanFiction.net, so if any of you want a bit of a watered down version of this story, the one on FF is rated T.  
> I encourage reviews! If you didn't like something, tell me! If any of you have theories, I would love to hear them! If there was anything you liked, please let me know! I will do what I can to please the crowd! Thanks again!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

He had never planned to visit her. Kylo had been keeping himself busy, whether that involved haunting the halls of Starkiller Base, training, or commanding troops in place of Hux, who had made himself quite scarce over the past few days. Kylo had a feeling where the general was.

He had heard about the girl’s mental breakdown. Word tended to travel fast among the various stormtrooper divisions. The troopers who had recently accompanied him on his shuttle had been trying to be subtle in their conversations, and had failed miserably.

_“Did you hear what happened in the general’s office the other day?” one casually asked the other next to him._

_“Who hasn’t?” was the almost sarcastic reply. “From the way that woman was apparently screaming, I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire base heard her.” Well, Kylo certainly hadn’t heard the screams or the rumors, so he was instantly intrigued, much to his own chagrin. He was still disturbed by what had recently transpired between him and the Hux girl. The way she had looked at him, her eyes pleading yet firm; it had unnerved him. He had still felt her hand on his arm, which felt like it was on fire. How dare she touch him? How dare he let her? He felt weak, pathetic, reduced to an apparent coward for letting himself submit to someone like her, a woman._

Granted, a strong-willed, clever, outspoken _-he cut his thoughts off angrily; those were beside the point. Be that as it may, he still turned his head ever so slightly in the direction of the troopers to listen better without giving away his interest. They did not need to know anything, except how to keep their mouths shut._

_“I heard that it took at least four men to hold her down; she was going berserk. They had to knock her out with the heavy stuff.” The other trooper shrugged._

_“I’m surprised that they didn’t put a blaster bolt through her head; she tried to attack the general, you know.”_

_“Really? I heard differently, but kriff. I can’t believe they’re related, but I assume that that’s the reason why she’s still even alive. It’s said that she’s like_ him _.” They were talking about him now, Kylo was certain of it. He felt his fists clench even tighter. What he wouldn’t give to make them shut up now, but his curiosity stayed his hand._

_“What makes you say that?” asked the trooper, sounding dubious._

_“Sevens was there. He said that he doesn’t remember the specifics, but there was a crack in the office window, a big one. The general actually looked spooked.”_

_“Wonderful. Twice the danger now. Do you know where they’re keeping her? Somewhere secure, I imagine.”_

_“I think they have her locked up in a containment cell, in isolation. Restrained, I believe. Talk is that she’s gone mad.”_

_“Anyone would if they were locked up like that, especially on that planet. I wonder what triggered her.”_

_“Who knows? The fact that remains is that something needs to be done about her. She’s dangerous.” The other troopers scoffed._

_“As if that wasn’t obvious. If I had it my way, she would have been dead the second she stepped on Ord Mantell. It would have certainly put the bitch out of her misery.” No sooner had the words left the trooper’s mouth than he went flying across the short length of the shuttle, slamming against the wall._

_Kylo stood to his full height, glaring daggers from behind his mask at the soldier who was lying against the wall, their chest heaving. Kylo’s fingers flexed around his lightsaber. How he wished to run it through this loquacious being lying pathetically before him. He could practically taste the other man’s fear, and it was delicious. ‘Yes, remind him of how dangerous_ you _are,’ he thought._

_“I suggest that if you wish to keep your head, soldier, learn to keep your thoughts to yourself,” Kylo said menacingly, the vocoder making his voice sound even more threatening. His threat had its effect, for the trooper nodded hastily and scrambled to his feet to stand once again next to his companion, who was frozen with fear. The rest of the trip passed in blissful silence._

He did not know what to believe, as the truth tended to become convoluted the more it was passed around, but he did not care to find out. Why should he be concerned? He should actually feel relieved. If the girl had indeed gone insane, then she would no longer be Kylo’s problem.

Still, her presence remained in the back of his mind like an itch he just couldn’t scratch. She was almost impossible to ignore. He knew that she was not projecting her emotions or thoughts on purpose; she had no control over them or her growing abilities, but it was still irritating. He could feel her distress, her anger, her fear. Sometimes it was subdued, and at other times, it was like a raging wildfire.

Once in a while, he caught glimpses, flashes of images that were being thrown carelessly through the Force. They were typically the same thing over and over: a white room, holoscreens flashing innumerable amounts of information, including what looked to be mathematical equations and useless facts, and the table in the dark room. The one recurring thought that went along with these images was: _Monsters_. The screaming had to be the worst part though, the screams of a child in pain. They cruelly reminded him of similar screams that he heard on that fateful night six years ago.

He did not know how she was doing this, but it was apparent that she was strong in the Force, despite her connection to it being subdued for so long. Now, the Force practically sang with her presence, which now shone like a light at the end of a long dark tunnel. Kylo ignored the pull to it, but he could not help but notice how it flickered every so often, especially when her emotions became erratic.

 These troublesome thoughts and emotions were the reason why Kylo had been keeping himself busy, doing anything to keep his mind away from _hers_. When he was contacted to report to the medical bay, he was initially going to refuse. He had better things to do, and he was not even interested. That’s what he told himself anyhow.

At the same time, however, he knew that this would be his chance, the opportunity that he (and Snoke) had been waiting for. What better time to approach her when she was at her lowest, most desperate point? The idea might have sounded absurd to anyone else, but Kylo knew firsthand how easily someone in such a position could be influenced, swayed by the promise of something better.

_“You must first establish a base of trust with her,” Snoke lectured to him on the day he had removed the repression of the girl’s sensitivity. “Show her that you are willing to help her understand what she is, lend a sympathetic ear. The girl has obviously gone through quite an ordeal; you must make it clear to her that learning the ways of the Force is the only way to cope with the inevitable feelings of betrayal and pain. Teach her how to utilize her emotions, and sequentially, the Dark Side. I can already sense that she is powerful, Kylo Ren; she will either make a valuable ally, or a dangerous adversary. Tread carefully, and if you succeed, I will be completing not just your training, but hers as well…”_

Kylo, who had been more than eager to continue his instruction of the Dark Side under his master, was floored by this news. He should have felt thrilled to know that Snoke was considering continuing Kylo’s training, but instead, he felt dread, along with a hint of jealousy.

Kylo studied the Sith; he knew their ways. He especially understood the Rule of Two that had been established by the Sith Lord Darth Bane centuries ago. _“Always two there are; no more, no less. A master and an apprentice.”_ The master embodied the power, and the apprentice craved it, aspiring to one day rise up against their master and take their place. Well, Kylo was obviously the apprentice, and Snoke the master, but Snoke was no Sith. As a result, the rules did not apply to him.

Still, Kylo could not help but feel betrayed. He had been sought out by Snoke, _chosen_ by him. He had done everything to please his master, to convince him that he was worthy of further training. Now, someone who had no experience with the Force whatsoever, a common criminal, was being given the attention that Kylo ardently craved. Why should he be expected to be her handler, only to end up being her foreseeable rival for Snoke’s approval, and for power? If she could be turned, it was highly unlikely that both of them would survive the end of the Supreme Leader’s training.

Yes, he was jealous, who wouldn’t be? This girl was nothing special, if anything, she just might be his downfall.  His hatred for her swelled sevenfold at the possibility of being replaced. He should have killed her when he had the chance. With this newest occurance, however, he may have just been saved from all of this trouble.

He had been surprised to discover that she had asked for him. Hux apparently was as well. He had been standing at the entrance to the medical bay speaking to a medic when Kylo arrived.

“…I want the best doctors working on her!” he was saying, everything about his voice and body language screaming tension.

“But sir,” the unfortunate medic pleaded, “every time we approach her, she proves to be uncooperative. She bit Doctor Salu not even five minutes ago when he tried to sedate her!” General Hux shook his head in disgust at the medic’s excuses.

“Then send in a droid if you must. I need to know what is wrong with her!”

“I apologize for my brashness sir, but shouldn’t we wait until….?” He trailed off when he saw Kylo coming towards them.

Hux looked in Kylo’s direction with obvious contempt and then turned back towards the medic. “Never mind, Doctor Tarly. The wait appears to be over. Report back to your duties then.” Doctor Tarly nodded and scurried off, fleeing the dark commander’s approach.

Hux fell into step with Kylo and the two continued in silence.

Shortly before they reached their intended destination, Hux suddenly scoffed.

“To think that when she finally decides to speak intelligibly, she asks to see you.” He sounded bitter, which made Kylo raise his eyebrows. “ _She asked for me?”_ he wanted to ask, but instead:

“She did not wish to speak with you?” he inquired. Hux scoffed.

“She does not know that I am here. Besides, I know that she would not want to see me.” He sounded cool and collected, but Kylo could sense his consternation.

“She tried to assault you, did she not?” His own tone was conversational at best, but Hux suddenly stopped and whirled to face Kylo, shock and disgust on his face.

“What? Of course not! She was too engaged with having a mental breakdown! I was the one who had to hold her down until assistance arrived. Where did you hear these slanders?” So, not everything the troopers had said was true after all.

“Your “highly trained” men are quite skilled in the art of gossip, General. I suggest that their next training session includes restraint and discretion.” He could feel the near-hatred radiating from the man before him.

“What does it matter to you, Ren? She is here because of you, after all.” His tone had now become accusatory, and Kylo did not like it one bit. He stepped closer to Hux, who, to his credit, did not flinch this time.

“Are you alluding that this is my fault, General?” The man’s face became red and his nostrils flared.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is. Ever since you decided to have a field day in her mind, my sister has been gradually regaining her memories but losing her mind. She has been traumatized by whatever these memories are, and the effects are finally beginning to manifest themselves. She is confused and terrified now, Ren, so I do hope that you are satisfied with yourself!” he spat. By the end of his short tirade, the general had lost nearly every inch of his calm façade. His eyes blazed with unadulterated hatred for Kylo.

Kylo actually did feel satisfied with himself, for at least he knew the truth now, or at least most of it. In time, he would know all of it, most likely from the girl herself, if everything went according to his plan. However, he also felt irritated by Hux’s audacity and ignorance.

“May I remind you, General, that it was the Supreme Leader who willed for this to happen?” He hoped that the warning in his tone would shut Hux up, but unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

“But did either of you consider the ramifications?” Hux countered. “Did you really think that this was going to help her? All you’ve done is harm her. She is mentally damaged now, Ren, damaged to the point of insanity. She is gone now, my sister. She is obviously no longer the child I knew many years ago, but I cannot believe that the woman here and the little girl are the same person. Moira was good, she was kind and gentle, she did not-.” He broke off suddenly, catching his breath. His eyes and words were full of so much emotion that Kylo was temporarily rendered speechless.

“She did not deserve this,” Hux finished with a sigh. “Moira,” he murmured to himself, shaking his head, “what did Father do to you?” He then drew in a deep breath and looked at Kylo, his eyes once again full of derision.

“That is why I refuse to go see her, Ren. I cannot look at her now without imagining what she went through. I cannot even begin to think about… _what_ she is.” He paused and stared Kylo down. “I thought that when she had appeared on Ord Mantell, it would be my third chance to attempt to make amends, to put the past behind us and start anew. I thought that I finally had her back after sixteen years, but you took her away from me again, Kylo Ren, and that is something that I cannot forgive, ever.”

* * *

He felt her hand take his, so small but warm to the touch. The conversation had gone better than expected-he had expected more neurotic behavior from her. Instead, she seemed normal, as in sarcastic and nearly insufferable. Kylo saw right through her though-she was actually terrified, and she even admitted that much. The eyes that had been so full of fire days before were now dead; they did not smile along with her mouth. She looked defeated. However, that did not mean that she failed to surprise him.

Snoke was right, she was powerful. The way she was able to effortlessly perceive the emotions of others was impressive. She had not been wrong about the fear felt by those who were observing their interaction, Hux included, and the way that it had intensified when Kylo had undone her restraints.

He felt her shock at his gesture, and if he had been any other person, he would have felt the same way. Releasing her restraints would hopefully begin to build the foundation of trust, and besides, he was curious. He wanted to see what she could already do, and he was not disappointed. He was not afraid either, for he knew that she could do him no harm, at least for now.

Despite her mental strength, she was physically weak. As soon as she stood, she fell forward with a gasp, her knees having given out, right into Kylo’s arms. He held her upright at arms’ length, careful to keep her from getting too close.

“Dammit,” she swore softly, before realizing her situation. “Let go of me,” she demanded stubbornly, trying to wrench herself free of his grip, but Kylo held firm.

“You can barely stand on your own,” he observed, and she shot him a venomous glare, which under different circumstances, Kylo would have found more amusing.

“I’ve gathered that, thank you,” she snapped, the familiar sarcasm back in her voice. It was only then that Kylo began to notice the similarities between this girl and her brother. “Now let go of me so I can walk out of here with at least a small fraction of dignity.” Her resolve was admirable at best, but it amounted to nothing when she looked like she was about to collapse after one step. He did not want to do what he was about to do, but he knew that there was no other option.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen,” he replied, and before she could even look confused, he waved his hand, and she went slack in his grasp. He scooped up her petite form and headed for the door.

Hux was right there in his face as soon as he stepped out. “What have you done?” the man seethed. Kylo stopped before him, annoyed at this delay. He sighed, the vocoder distorting it.

“I simply rendered her unconscious. She was clearly not going to stand for knowingly being carried, and I have gathered that she does not like being approached by medics.” Hux was still not having it.

“She needs to remain here to be treated, Ren. She is sick!”

“Staying here will only worsen her situation, General. Besides, the Force will heal her.” He was met with an incredulous stare.

“The Force? How can _that_ help her? She needs doctors, therapists, and medicines, not some mystical religion,” he spat. Kylo’s impatience only grew. He felt familiar anger rising in his chest. Moira was literally the only thing that prevented him from reaching out and strangling Hux. Why did this man have to be so intolerably stubborn and idiotic?

“This mystical religion that you speak of is something that your sister is a part of now. She must learn about it in order to accept who she is. It is a therapy within itself. Besides, this is all part of the Supreme Leader’s plan.” The general frowned. He was not present during that part of the meeting between Snoke and Kylo.

“And that is?” he asked, his voice going dangerously low. The atmosphere in the room intensified. Despite his frustration, Kylo had to smirk triumphantly.

“I’m afraid that it’s highly classified.” Immediately, Hux’s face darkened a few shades of red, and before he could open his mouth, Kylo continued. “Now, we can stand here all day and bicker over trivial matters, or I can deliver her to a more suitable environment. She is beginning to grow quite burdensome; I’d hate to drop her.”

 _Bastard_ , he heard Hux think angrily, but he knew that he had the man beat. Wordlessly, the man stepped aside and allowed Kylo to pass before falling in stride with him. He turned to one of the medical droids hovering discreetly to the side. “I will notify you once she is situated,” he murmured to it, and the droid merely nodded its head in affirmation. Then, the general turned back to Kylo.

“I presume that you are bringing her back to her quarters?” Kylo kept staring ahead as they walked, but he shook his head.

“No,” he said, “I am taking her to new ones. She did not like the mirror in her previous room.” He wasn’t exactly telling Hux what happened, so he wasn’t really betraying Moira. He just wanted to see if Hux was smart enough to take the hint. He certainly felt the other man’s confusion and slight alarm as the realization began to dawn on him. Hux stopped, so Kylo did too.

“Is that-?” Hux began in a near whisper, but Kylo cut him off.

“I can take it from here, General. I believe that you have more important duties to attend to, such as managing this base.” He didn’t wait to see the general’s reaction, but instead turned around and continued down the hall with Moira in his arms, knowing exactly where he was going.

* * *

 

He entered his private quarters still carrying his burden, who was still lifeless in his arms. He looked down at her again, noticing how her hair covered part of her face. There was something…familiar about that particular position.

Shaking his head, Kylo walked over to his bed and placed his precious cargo on it. Part of him was still confused with his decision. Why here?

He could have easily returned her to her original room, but he felt that being there would evoke more unpleasant memories for her. The last thing that he needed was for her to have another breakdown, for Hux to sneer and say “I told you so,” and have her sent back to the medical bay. She would be safer here until he figured out what to do with her. Another room could be arranged, but for the meantime, she would rest here, undisturbed.

She looked so vulnerable. He wondered if he could try to get into her head again, but he decided against it, knowing how well that had worked out last time. In time, he would be able to see inside, to extract all of her secrets, but that time was not now. He preferred to have his victims awake, so he could watch them try to fight him, only to ultimately lose in the end.

Again, the thought occurred to him that he could easily kill her, to save himself from all of this trouble, this conflict. He felt his hand twitch toward his saber, but he caught himself.  He needed to leave now, before his emotions got the best of him. Knowing that no one else but he and a medical droid would come through the door, he found it safe to enter the hidden adjacent room to his left, a room that could only be accessed with the Force. He had some things to think about.

* * *

 

Moira jerked awake from the darkness soundlessly, clutching something smooth and silky between her fingers. A bolt of pain shot through her left hand at the sudden movement, but it was nothing compared to the panic that was gripping her chest. Panting, she sat up quickly and looked around the room, ignoring how her head was currently swimming.

The last thing that she remembered was the white room, which she was no longer in, and Kylo Ren, who was no longer present. This room was unfamiliar, yet reminiscent of the room she had been staying in before her breakdown. The setup was similar, but the room was larger and slightly grander. Even the bedsheets that Moira was still holding were luxurious. She ran the dark material through her fingers in wonderment. Where was she? Was this her new room? If so, Moira was not about to complain, but she was still curious as to how she got here in the first place.

Then she remembered standing before Kylo Ren, or more accurately, in his arms. She felt her face flush at the memory, but she quickly reminded herself that it was because she had nearly fallen over when she had stood, and he had been merely supporting her. She had tried fighting him, but then he had raised his hand, and…she groaned.

“The little shit,” she muttered, burying her face in her hands, “he did it again.” She chuckled quietly, shaking her head. She should have seen that coming, to be honest. How many times would she fall for that?

Groaning again, she fell back onto the bed. _Next time, it’ll be me who knocks him out_ , she thought resolutely. She rolled over onto her side, burying her face into one of the pillows. It had a peculiar scent to it, she noticed as she inhaled deeply, reminiscent of her days with the Black Sun, when during her training she used to stealthily switch cells with her male contemporaries at night, giving the supervisor quite a scare in the morning.

They had always been warned that they would be “taught a lesson,” but the only thing that Moira had learned from the experience was what men smelled like. Men could go from taking a bath in sludge to dousing themselves with cologne, but no matter what, they always had this distinct smell that lingered on whatever they had prolonged contact with. That being the case, this pillow definitely reeked of masculinity, which meant that this was not her bed, and so by extension, not her room.

Moira pushed herself up from the pillow and looked around the room again. As far as she could see, she was alone, but that did nothing to calm her racing heart. Whose room was this, and did they even know that she was here? Even if they did, that did not make her feel any more welcome, for the longer she sat there, the more uneasy she began to feel.

There was something strange about this room, something that made the hair on her neck stand up and a chill to run down her spine. She could sense it in the atmosphere, and it put her on edge. This room just felt…wrong, and Moira did not know why.

Then she heard the voices, barely audible, but there. _Come and see why_ , they seemed to whisper. Moira felt a tugging sensation in her stomach and in her head as the whispers became more insistent. Something was calling to her.

Slowly and shakily, she stood from the bed. Almost pitching forward, she grabbed onto the bed for support. She felt the pins and needles sensation in her feet and knew that she had been asleep for a while.

Gathering herself with a few calming breaths, Moira took a tentative step forward, then another, until finally she found herself pacing toward the wall across from the bed. She did not quite know why she was heading in that direction; her only clue was that the voices were getting louder.

She imagined dark tendrils of energy seeping from that wall, beckoning her forward. They were the source of the whispers. She noticed that the closer she got to the wall, the colder it became. In the back of her mind, something told her to turn away and run, but her curiosity got the best of her.

She reached out to touch the wall, frowning in contemplation. The surface felt like it was pulsing with some kind of energy that she could not describe. It felt alive. There was something on the other side of this wall, Moira could feel it.

The dark tendrils that she could see in her mind reached out to her again, and this time, she reached out to one as well. _Show me_ , she implored of it. It happily enveloped her, caressing her in an almost docile manner, and she inhaled sharply at the thrill of it, the energy that passed through her body and made the nerve endings in her fingertips tingle.

Suddenly, a portion of the wall slid up soundlessly in front of her to reveal another room, and when she gained a view of what was inside, Moira froze.

The dark energy emanating from there hit her like a runaway speeder, stealing the breath from her lungs, making her blood run cold. It was suffocating. However, the malevolent force was not the only thing that made her heart stop.

She could only see the back of the figure that was sitting before her, but she knew who it was; she recognized the back of the helmet. She gasped before she could even stop herself.

She quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. She watched in mute horror as his back straightened at the sound. He definitely sensed her presence, but whether or not he knew it was her was irrelevant. The light reflected off the metal grooves of his mask as he began to turn his head in her direction.

The spell was broken. Shrieking in terror, Moira wasted no time in turning away and breaking into a sprint towards the door, praying to any deity for the door to be unlocked. To her surprise, it was.

She lunged through the doorway, and began sprinting down the hall, not even bothering to check if the door had closed behind her. She had no plan and absolutely no idea where she was going. All she knew was that she needed to get away.

There was no one else around, not even stormtroopers, but she had a feeling that that wouldn’t last much longer.

She rounded a corner, and suddenly her feet came out from under her. For a moment, Moira experienced a sense of weightlessness, but the feeling didn’t last long as she quickly landed flat on her back, briefly driving the air from her lungs.

She groaned, gripping her head and grimacing in pain as her brain rattled in her skull from the impact.

 “What the-!” a familiar male voice said from above. “Hey, are you alright?”

From her place on the floor, Moira opened her eyes. At first, everything was out of focus, but after a few blinks, she was able to lucidly make out the even more familiar face hovering over her. “You?!” she gasped.

FN-2187’s eyes widened. “Miss Hux?”

Moira wasted no time in scrambling to her feet, which proved to be very difficult. Her back and head hurt, she still felt a bit winded, and it did not help that the floor was slippery. That was bound to be the reason why she fell in the first place.

“Here, let me help you,” said FN-2187, offering him his hand. He could definitely see that she was struggling, and Moira, not wanting to suffer the humiliation of falling on her ass multiple times, gladly took his hand.

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly after he hauled her to her feet. She bent over at the waist and placed her hands on her knees, taking deep breaths. “What…in all nine…hells…was that?” she managed to wheeze out.

The stromtrooper cadet was looking down at her with concern, but he still answered her question. “Floor wax…are you okay?” Moira glanced down at the floor and saw her reflection staring back at her.

“I’ll live.” She shook her head, chuckling to herself. “ _Damn_ ,” she murmured, “even the floor wants me dead.” She heard him clear his throat.

“Um, that was my fault, actually.” When Moira’s head shot up at his comment, he quickly went to defend himself. “I’m working sanitation,” he explained, gesturing to his attire, “so I have to wax this sector today, and-agh!”

Within seconds, Moira dragged him into a narrow passageway and pinned him against the wall by the collar of his uniform. She held one hand over his mouth and pressed her arm into his throat, rendering him silent. She leaned in and whispering menacingly: “Not one word.” He only stared back at her with wide eyes. A couple of seconds later, the tall intimidating figure of Kylo Ren appeared, closely followed by a small unit of stormtroopers. She closed her eyes, as if doing that would prevent them from seeing her.

“She does not know her way around here; she could not have gone far,” he was saying as he strode past. He sounded angry, very angry. “Nevertheless, notify the General to put the base on high alert. She may yet try to escape…” His voice eventually faded along with their footsteps.

Moira did not even dare to breath for a few seconds after they had disappeared, having taken no notice of them. She could hear her heart pounding loudly, and for a moment, she feared that he would hear it and turn back around.

She waited until the dark aura and the cold that she had felt seconds before Ren’s arrival dissipate, and then exhaled with a loud sigh. She opened her eyes and shivered, shaking off that uncomfortable feeling. She recognized it to be the same aura she had sensed in the medical bay when he came to get her, the same one she had felt minutes ago in that room, and the same one that she had felt in her head. Was this Kylo Ren’s Force-signature?

Moira recalled his brief lecture in the medical bay about the Force and how he was able to sense her presence in it. Was she doing the same with his? If so, she did not want to do it again. It made her feel cold, anxious, and even tired in a depressed sort of way, as if the darkness drained the energy from everything around it.

She looked at FN-2187 to see if he looked similar to how she felt, but he was staring at her with a panicked look in his eyes. “Did you feel that too?” she whispered. He frowned, confirming her suspicions. She still felt disappointed.

“Never mind,” she sighed. “Alright, I’m going to remove my hand. If you try to run away or even yell, I promise that I will hurt you badly. Got it?” He nodded quickly, and Moira lifted her hand from his mouth. 

“Okay, listen to me closely. You said that you work sanitation. Does this place happen to have a trash compactor?” The poor kid was rendered mute from terror and obvious confusion at her question. Any other time, she might have felt guilty, but the thing was, she had _no_ time right now. She slammed him into the wall again. “Answer me, dammit!” she hissed.

He quickly nodded, and that made Moira frown in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean? ‘Yes’ as in you’ll answer me, or ‘yes’ as in there is a trash compactor?” He nodded again in earnest. Moira, taking his gesture as affirmation of her second guess, couldn’t help but grin as excitement mixed with relief flooded her system. She could not believe her luck right now.

“That’s great to hear,” she said, releasing FN-2187, who sagged against the wall in what limited space he had, gasping for air, “because I need your help taking out some trash.”

* * *

 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this!” FN-2187 muttered to himself for what was probably the third time since they had reached the garbage chute. Moira, who was standing behind him waiting rather impatiently, rolled her eyes.

“Be quiet!” she snapped. “I myself can’t believe that I’m about to throw myself down a garbage chute, but since I’m currently being pursued by a phonomaniac* who’s probably ready to straight up murder me, my options are pretty limited. Could you please hurry up?”

“I’m trying!” he retorted hotly as he fumbled around in the pockets of his uniform. Finally, he produced a keycard which he inserted into an opening by the chute door. A button next to that opening lit up, and FN-2187 punched it almost angrily. The panel slid up smoothly to reveal a small dark square in the wall. He then whirled around to face her, his expression a mixture of anger and fear.

“So what’s your plan after this anyway, huh? Like Lord Ren said, you’re not gonna make it far. You’ll probably die down there anyway,” he said, gesturing to the chute.

“And wouldn’t that make everyone happy!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up into the air. She was surprised at how bitter she sounded, as was FN-2187.

Ignoring that, she continued. “Alright, get ready to throw me in.” The entrance to the chute was rather high, and Moira did not think that she had the energy right now to make such a jump. Besides, her back still hurt from her fall from earlier. His eyes widened even more in alarm.

“What?” he asked, incredulous, “are you serious?” Moira nodded.

“Do I look like I’m joking? I’m not going to be able to climb up there on my own. The chute declines at such an angle that someone needs to shove me down it.” The cadet shook his head.

“I’m not gonna throw you down a garbage chute! You’ll definitely die that way!” Moira shrugged.

“Well, no one can say that I didn’t try. Now get ready; we’re wasting time.” She started towards him, only for him to back away, shaking his head. There was now pure, unadulterated fear on his face.

“No, I can’t do it! I’ve already helped you too much. If they find out, they’re gonna kill me-.”

“Not if I kill you first,” Moira blurted out in a nonchalant way. He stared at her, and she stared right back. After a several agonizing seconds, the cadet’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

“Fine,” he muttered, sticking his keycard into the waistband of his pants, “come on then.” Allowing herself a smug smile of satisfaction, Moira stepped forward.

“Okay,” she said, walking around him so she could stand closer to the wall, “you’re going to have to lift me up from behind. I’ll jump to help out, but you’ve got to do the rest, got it?”

He did not respond. He only placed his hands just above her waist. She could sense his hesitation and regret. He was afraid.

She did not want to care; he was nothing to her anyways. If one got down to it, he was just a stormtrooper, the enemy. She was supposed to hate them, but for some reason, she could not hate this one. His fear was nearly tangible, and it made his innocence even more pronounced.

“Alright,” she murmured, “on three. One, two, three!” She pushed up off the ground, leaping up towards the chute. He lifted her up from the waist, holding her steady as she slowly began to maneuver her body into the chute.

She pushed herself through with her elbows and forearms so that her head and shoulders were inside, and her torso soon followed. FN-2187’s hands had now moved down to her legs, holding her body at a downward angle.

“Stars, it’s dark in here,” Moira muttered to herself, her voice echoing in the small space. It was a tight fit, but Moira was glad that her hips had been able to get through. “Eck, and smelly too!” The putrid odor was enough to make her eyes water.

She felt out the space in front of her with one arm and almost instantly felt the drop off. All she needed was one solid push…

“Hey, what are you doing?” someone shouted from behind.

Immediately, FN-2187 let go of her legs, probably more from surprise than anything else. Now with nothing holding her in place, Moira was practically upended into the chute, barely having any time to scream as she slid headfirst into darkness.

* * *

 

After falling for what seemed like eternity, Moira flew out of the chute and landed face first in a stinking pile of scrap metal. Some of the debris came loose from the momentum of her landing, sending her rolling down the pile and face first again into a shallow pool of tepid, garbage-filled water.

Moira quickly rolled onto her back, spraying the filthy fluid from her mouth in disgust. When she finished hacking up the rest of her lungs, she allowed her body to relax and float on the water’s surface. Closing her eyes, she sighed and could not help the victorious grin that stretched her mouth or the breathless laughter that escaped it. She had done it.

She got to her feet, wobbling around a little due to the uneven surface beneath her. Looking around, she could see that she was up to her knees in water and was surrounded by mountains of garbage consisting of scrap metal and other kinds of waste. Mora wrinkled her nose at the smell; there was definitely one kind of waste down here.

Not wanting to savor her victory for too long, Moira headed for the door in the wall to her right. Every inch of her body was soaked, and her boots were no exception. The fact that they were water logged made Moira’s progress to the door a little more difficult, but she was still smiling when she reached the door. She raised her hand to the keycard slot and froze, the smile disappearing from her face almost as fast as it had appeared.

Moira felt her stomach drop to the ground as she stared in shock at her empty hand. Immediately, she looked down at her feet, expecting to see FN-2187’s keycard floating there, but was sorely disappointed. Of course, it couldn’t be this easy, could it?

“No, no, no, please no!” she began to whisper frantically as her chest constricted in panic. She whirled around and rushed back to the spot where she had landed. _It’s got to be here somewhere!_

Trying her best to stay calm, Moira dropped to her knees and began to feel around, unable to see what was underneath the murky water’s surface. She began to curse herself as she did this. She knew that she should have slid the keycard into her own pants after she had snagged it from FN-2187’s. That way, there would have been no chance of losing it.

Her search proving to be unsuccessful so far, Moira found herself becoming desperate. She began to swear out loud now as she splashed around in the shallow water, even submerging her face a few times to try to see what was under her.

She crawled toward the scrap pile which she had fallen off and searched there. When it was starting to become clear that the keycard was lost and that she just might be trapped down here, Moira’s hand closed around something small, rectangular, and metal. Her heart in her throat, she raised her hand to reveal that she was clutching the keycard.

A short laugh escaped her and she smiled in relief. She could still make it out of here. She had figured that if this card could get her into the trash compactor, it would certainly get her out of it…and perhaps to a nearby hanger.

Holding the keycard close to her chest, Moira began to stand back up when she heard a loud groan that echoed throughout the room. She froze, expecting the worst.

Immediately, her mind went to the story Han Solo had told her about one of his and Chewbacca’s narrow escapes. She had figured that if it had worked for him, it would certainly work for her. She had just been hoping that she could miss the whole compacting part of a trash compactor.

However, the walls did not begin to close in. Instead, the door slid open, allowing an officer in uniform and a battalion of troopers to enter the small space. All of their blasters were trained on her.

Moira remained kneeling, absolutely motionless. Her heart sank as the white-armored soldiers surrounded her, the officer approaching her with a look of apprehension and disgust on his face.

 _Well, shit_ , she thought, and when she became aware of what she just might be kneeling in, she began to giggle quietly to herself.

“Moira Hux,” the officer, a Captain, she noticed, said formally, with a hint of annoyance, “you are under arrest for escaping the custody of Lord Ren, and will be…”

He broke off as Moira started to laugh hysterically, so loud and hard that the laughter echoed throughout the room. She felt tears trailing down her cheeks, but whether that was from the force of her laughter or other pent up emotions, she did not know. She was still laughing when one of the troopers cuffed her from behind, forcing her to drop the keycard.

The officer was staring at her as if she had grown a second head. “Inform Lord Ren that we have apprehended his prisoner,” he ordered, “and get her to a holding cell.” He sounded appalled.

Moira was forced to her feet by two troopers, each with a hand on either arm. Another stood behind her and placed the barrel of a blaster into her back. And just like that, Moira was led from the trash compactor and to a holding cell, madly laughing the entire way, even after her binders were removed and the cell door was shut behind her.

* * *

By the time her brother entered her cell, Moira was curled up on the metal slab that served as a bed, shivering violently. Her clothes were still wet, and they chilled her to the bone. Her hair was beginning to curl into bright orange ringlets around her face, but it wasn’t drying fast enough.

She quickly sat up at his approach and grinned with rapidly chattering teeth. “You found me! You win!” she cried excitedly. Hux paused as the door closed behind him, leaving him alone with her. Moira actually wouldn’t hurt him though. If anything, she was happy to see him.

“Pardon?” he asked, clearly confused. Moira giggled, shaking her head. He could be so daft sometimes.

“I was hiding, and you found me, remember? Don’t you remember how to play hide-and-seek?” She could have been speaking another language; he clearly wasn’t comprehending.

“Moira,” he said earnestly, “you were trying to escape, _remember_? It was not a game.” He was trying to sound stern, but Moira could sense his underlying concern. What was he worrying about?

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course it was, silly! I ran, and you tried to catch me! It’s not fair that you won though,” she said, pouting. “You cheated.” He stepped closer to her, slowly as if he had been approaching a child or a frightened animal.

“How did I cheat exactly?” he asked gently, sounding curious. Alright, she would humor him.

“You didn’t find me yourself. You sent someone else to do it. That’s not part of the rules.” He raised an eyebrow.

“You used someone else too,” he pointed out, his mouth tugging up at one corner. “It was only fair if I did the same.”

Moira crossed her arms defensively. He got her there. “It was strategy…” she protested, but when he raised his eyebrow again, she deflated. “Fine,” she sighed, “I guess I cheated too. Sorry.”

“It’s alright Moira,” he said, his voice placating. “You still did very well.” She grinned at his praise; she liked it.

After a few seconds of silence, the General moved to squat down in front of her.

“So,” Hux began again, a bit hesitantly, “do you want to tell me why you ran in the first place?” Moira shuddered.

“I was kidnapped, I think,” she whispered nervously. “I woke up in a room that wasn’t mine, and _he_ was there.”

“Who? Who was there, Moira?”

“Kylo Ren,” Moira breathed after some hesitation, and she looked about the cell anxiously. She was scared that he was going to hear her and appear. When he didn’t, she looked back at her brother, who was patiently waiting for her to continue.

“I was afraid that he was going to kill me, because I don’t think I was supposed to be there. I ran away because I was scared. Is he still going to kill me, Brendol?” she asked in a tiny voice. “He sounded angry earlier.” Brendol shook his head quickly. He looked angry, but not at her she realized.

“No,” he said sternly, “I will not let him touch you or even go near you ever again, I promise.” Relief flooded through her. Her brother was going to protect her like she always knew he would.

She went to smile again, but she suddenly sneezed, the sharp sound echoing in the small room. Immediately, General Hux became concerned.

“You’re soaking wet,” he observed. “You must be freezing.” He stood and went to the door of the cell. He pressed a button, and the door slid up again. He turned back to face her.

“Come,” he ordered gently, “let’s get you out of here.” Grinning, Moira hopped down from her perch and followed him out of the cell.

The two walked side by side down the hall, four troopers behind them. They reached the entrance to the cell block, where the officers in charge saluted their General. They briefly showed surprise at Moira’s presence, but they hid it just as quickly.

Their little group headed to the elevator, where two troopers stayed behind to guard them. Now, it was just Moira and her brother along with a pair of troopers.

The ride lasted a couple of minutes, though it could have been longer or shorter than it actually felt. They exited the lift to enter a new corridor unlike one Moira had ever seen during her short stay here. This one felt far more luxurious.

“These are the luxury apartment,” Hux explained quite proudly. My residence is located here, as will yours.” Moira looked at him in shock, but he just smiled pleasantly in her direction. “If you would kindly follow me,” he suggested. Moira eagerly nodded.

He led one of the few doors in this hall and produced a keycard from one of the pockets on the inside of his coat.

“A copy will be made for you shortly,” he said as he inserted the card into the slot. The door slid up, and Moira gasped, bringing her hands to her mouth.

The room reminded her of the apartment of Ketsu Onyo, the leader of the Black Sun, but on a much larger scale. There was actually more than one color; the theme was red and black.

The walls were pretty much the same, a mix of igneous rock and metal, but the room itself felt warmer. Red curtains were drawn over what Moira knew to be a window, and she felt excitement bubble up inside of her.

 The living room was grand, complete with loveseats and ottomans, a sizeable holoprojector, and a black shag carpet. There was even a kitchenette and a dining table.

“Wow,” she murmured, walking in, Hux right behind her. She looked around in wonder, unable to take in everything at once.

Suddenly, she gasped and ran right for one of the end tables in the living room. On it sat a glass vase filled with a bouquet of flowers. She immediately recognized everliliess, rojos, blueblossoms, and her favorite, purple passions, which were the most abundant in the arrangement.

She reached out to tentatively touch the delicate purple petals, feeling their soft texture between her fingers. She sighed and closed her eyes, inhaling their sweet smell.

“Where’d you find these?” she asked her brother, still admiring the flowers.

Hux looked on proudly. “I recalled that purple was your favorite color as a child, so when I had this room prearranged for you, I hoped that your preferences hadn’t changed.”

Moira grinned from ear to ear. “You remembered!” she exclaimed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!”

She lunged at the General and enveloped him in a childish embrace, which he returned. Then, he made a noise of disgust.

“The next time you hide somewhere, Moira,” he said, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he drew away from her, “try to avoid the trash compactor. You reek.” Moira felt her cheeks color in embarrassment.

“Oops?” she offered up weakly, and Hux just shook his head.

“Get cleaned up, sister, and then do consider joining me for dinner this evening. There is a wide selection of attire to choose from, and if you request one, a stylist droid can come to your assistance. Whatever you require will be available to you with a push of this com,” he said, gesturing to a panel by the door.

“Do not be alarmed by the guards outside your room,” he continued. “They are here to stop _anyone_ from entering.” The way he said “anyone” gave Moira the impression that he was referring to specifically one person. She did not bother to ask who.

“Is there anything else you require?” Moira shook her head sweetly.

“Nope!” she said brightly. “I’ll be alright. I’m just going to go heed your suggestion…” she added, shuffling towards where she supposed the refresher was located.

“Please do, and I expect to see you later this evening.”

Moira mock saluted him. “Yes, sir!” And then he was gone.

Moira stood in the middle of the room, staring at the door for a few more seconds, and then turned to look back at the flowers, frowning.

_That’s one of the only things about me that hasn’t changed._

She walked back in her intended direction and into her bedroom. She was unsurprised by the large red bed that sat right in the middle of it. She walked right past it and into the just as grand refresher that was complete with a shower and a tub.

She began to fill the tub, adding bubbles, therapeutic ointments, and other scented salts before heading back out into the bedroom. She opened the closet and stared at the myriad of dresses. She rolled her eyes. How could she possible decide what to wear when she could not even decide what was real anymore?

Giving up, Moira stalked back to the tub, stripped off her smelly clothes and sank into the hot water, groaning in pleasure. Finally being able to relax for the first time in more than fourteen days, Moira finally felt safe enough to smirk triumphantly. If she could successfully fool her brother, then she would be able to fool anyone on this base.

At least she hoped so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> *A phonomaniac is basically someone who is obsessed with homicide.  
> I am so, so sorry for this long wait. This should have been updated two weeks ago. I am so sorry everyone! I hope that non of you have lost interest.  
> I am going to be honest with you though. School comes first to me. Period. I will try to write whenever I can, even if it is for five minutes a day or a few hours in the wee hours of night, but like I said, school is more important. I apologize if anyone gets impatient during the time between updates, but know that I have a genuine excuse!  
> Thanks, and I hoped that you enjoyed this chapter!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

**D'Qar- Resistance HQ**

Black Squadron leader Poe Dameron strode down the stairs and into the busy command center, not hearing the worried calls from his squad mates as they hurried after him. His face was almost as red as his flight suit, which he had not bothered to change out of since arriving back on base a few minutes ago.

He briefly paused to stare around the room, taking the scene in. His fingers clenched even tighter around his helmet. He watched them all carry on with their duties as if nothing had ever happened, as if _she_ had never existed. As if they didn't care.

The loud crash of a fighter helmet being thrown against the nearest wall brought about an abrupt silence, and all eyes turned towards Poe, who now stood at the center of the room emptyhanded, his hands clenched into fists.

The intense quiet only lasted for a moment longer before Poe finally spoke.

"Where is she?" he asked softly, glaring about the room. His voice was barely above a whisper, but everyone heard him- it was that quiet.

No one spoke; they all just looked onward in shock. Never before had they seen the typically levelheaded and friendly pilot, an idol to most, behave this way. He was also not liking their lack of response. He narrowed his eyes.

"C'mon," he snorted, "you all can speak Basic, right? Where. Is. She?" he asked through clenched teeth.

By now, those who had been standing closest to him had backed away. Even the rest of Black Squadron kept their distance.

"Commander, just what do you think you are doing?" demanded Major Taslin Brance, stepping forward, the initial shock still wearing off of him. Poe spun towards him, a wild look in his eye, and in a few strides, covered the space between them and grabbed the officer by his uniform. He brought the other man's face within inches of his own.

"I'm making sure that my friend isn't dead, Major, so just tell me what the hell is going on since no one else here seems to know!" he hissed. Major Brance, whose heart was now beating rapidly, still glared at the man before him.

"I suggest that you remove your hands, Commander. You are behaving out of line," he said in a voice like durasteel. Poe only smirked.

"No, _this_ is behaving out of line." He pushed the officer back against one of the command tables, ignoring the startled gasps from his audience, who scattered to get out of the way.

"Where is she!" he shouted now, shaking the man. "Don't you dare tell me that you don't know who I am talking about! You tell me, or I swear-." At this time, a couple of his fellow pilots, Wex and L'ulo, grabbed him from behind and pulled him off of Brance, who immediately straightened himself out.

However, Poe did not stop shouting as he struggled against his friends. "You haven't forgotten her! She's still out there and you know it! Tell me the truth now!" Major Brance only glared at Poe with an air of smugness and disdain.

"She's wherever she belongs, Commander, and that is certainly not here." His tone was icy and indifferent. He did not care, and that single yet important revelation sent a spike of white hot rage through Poe.

"Easy, Poe," Wex warned, having sensed his commander tense up, but Poe did not hear him.

"You son of a bitch!" he bellowed and attempted to lunge forward, but the grip on his arms only tightened. "How could you say that? I'm gonna frackin' kill you! I-!"

"Commander!" General Organa's voice cracked through the air like a whip, freezing Poe in place. He turned his head to see the general standing only a few feet away, the crowd having parted for her. He had not even noticed her entrance, but judging by the surprise on everyone else's face, they hadn't either.

Leia stared at him in disapproval, her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed, and mouth turned down. Poe felt his cheeks burn, though he did not know if it was from shame or anger.

"My office," she said, her voice hard. "Now." She glanced once around the room, and suddenly everyone seemed to remember what they were supposed to be doing in the first place. Not waiting for Poe, the general turned around and began to walk away.

Swearing under his breath, Poe shoved his friends' hands away and marched toward where he had forcibly thrown his helmet, picked it up, and headed after the general, ignoring the not so subtle stares and the glare from Major Brance.

Leia's office was small but functional, which was all that was needed. Upon entering it, she crossed the small space between the door and her desk, Poe not far behind. Instead of going to sit behind her desk, Leia instead turned and sat down on the edge of it, facing Poe, who was fuming silently.

"Shut the door," she ordered calmly. Poe, on the other hand, slammed his fist into the panel, feeling the door shut inches behind him. The General did not even flinch, and that somehow incited him even more.

"Where is she, General?" he growled. Leia did not do as much as blink.

"Mission report, Commander." Poe gaped. Was she serious?

"What?"

"The mission report, Commander. You led the Black and Red Squadrons on a patrol today along the border of the Unknown Regions to try to find the source of that signal we've been picking up on our scanners for the past month. Give me the report."

Why was that so kriffing important? Poe could care less about the patrol. What was Leia doing?

"General," he began, not bothering to hide his frustration, "I'm telling you that Moi-."

"And I am telling you to give me the mission report, Commander, so give me the damn mission report!" she cut him off sharply, her calm façade slowly crumbling. Poe was momentarily stunned into silence as he stared at her. It was rare that the general ever lost her temper anymore. She looked angry now, that much was obvious, but there was something else in her eyes. However, Poe dismissed it and drew in a deep breath, squaring his shoulders.

"We performed the usual flyby, and there was nothing out of the ordinary," he said in a monotone voice. "We did pick up a Star Destroyer on our scanners, probably coming to check us out, but we got out of there before it even got close. That's all, General." She nodded, taking in his information.

"They are getting bolder," she murmured more so to herself than to Poe. "It wouldn't surprise me if they tried to make another move, a bigger statement."

"Yeah, because they're pissed that we tried to make a move on them, right?" Leia's eyes flicked up at his bitter tone.

"And how would they know that, Commander?" she asked softly. Poe pressed his lips into a firm line, exhaling slowly out his nose.

"You know perfectly well why, General," he said, his voice slightly trembling with suppressed emotion that was threatening to spill out. She shook her head.

"She's not dead, Poe." Her voice was firm, yet meant to sound assuring. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

"How do you know that?" Poe exploded. "How could you possibly know that? I doubt that they let anyone who breaks into their facilities live!"

"You know that she's not just anyone, Poe. She's definitely alive." Poe shook his head.

"And you think that's better?" he shouted. He saw Leia's eyebrows raise at his comment, but he couldn't take it back now.

"What's your definition of alive, General?" he asked. The mental image of Moira laying alone, bruised, and bleeding in a cell made Poe's stomach turn.

"Her brother would not hurt her," Leia said. She sounded so confident.

"But her father did." For a moment, he saw genuine alarm, horror, and that same unfamiliar look flash in Leia's eyes, and he was confused. As far as he knew, he and Leia were the only ones on this base who knew that Moira's father had abused her when she was a child, often punishing her for not adhering to the Imperial ways. However, that look was gone and replaced by a more somber one.

"Well then, let's hope that General Hux did not completely take after his father," she sighed. Poe did not feel too optimistic about that. He shook his head again.

"It's my fault," he whispered, staring at the floor. He sensed the general's eyes lock onto him.

"No, Poe, it is not your fault," she said severely. He nodded in earnest.

"Yes, it is. I-I should've done more to stop her, I should've gone with her like I've always done. Maybe then she wouldn't have- oh, dammit!" He quickly turned away from Leia, and with a cry of frustration, punched the wall as hard as he could.

"Poe!" General Organa cried in alarm, pushing herself away from her desk and moving towards him. "Poe that is enough!" she shouted as he wound up for another punch. "Commander, stop!" She quickly moved to position herself between Poe and the wall, making him freeze in place with a gasp.

She stared him down fearlessly, only compassion in her eyes. "That is an order, Commander," she said softly, her voice shaking. Poe backed away from her, gasping for air and trembling violently. No longer able to stand, he crouched down and clutched his head between his hands.

A sob was caught in his throat; he couldn't make a sound, he couldn't even breathe. Then, he felt a warm pair of arms wrap around him as Leia knelt before him, pulling him close to her chest. She held him there like a mother would to her child as the sobs finally came, loud and ugly.

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered into her shoulder. She hushed him gently.

"No," she whispered, "don't be. It's not your fault, Poe. It's mine. I shouldn't have sent her there, knowing the risks. If you're looking for someone to blame, then blame me, but don't even think for a second that this is your fault. You did everything that you were supposed to do and more. Moira knew the danger, yet she still decided to go ahead. There was nothing that you could have done to prevent her from going, you know that. She would not even have let you go with her."

"I wasn't there when she left. I didn't get to say goodbye." He felt Leia hum against his head in consideration; it was actually a comforting sound.

"It doesn't matter. She knew that you cared about her, and that's what matters. Besides, how can you be so sure that there was ever meant to be a goodbye?" Poe pulled away, frowning.

"What do you mean?" he asked. She smiled in a secretive way and shrugged her shoulders.

"Do you really think that Moira would ever _truly_ leave you without saying goodbye first?" she said, sounding amused. Poe had to smile at that, and he chuckled dryly.

"Eh, I suppose you're right," he sniffed, wiping his eyes. "I did make her promise to stay alive in whatever way she could. I just hope that she remembers that." Although Leia smiled, it did not reach her eyes.

"Let's just hope that she remembers who she is," she murmured, and that was when Poe was finally able to identify that look in her eyes. It was guilt.

Little did either of them know how true her final statement actually was.

* * *

"So I have a question for you now: how did you know it was me? My name hasn't been in the database since I erased it years ago, and if you haven't noticed, I don't exactly look like a child anymore." Moira reclined in her armchair, observing her brother over the rim of her wineglass as he took the seat across from her. They were now seated in the living area of General Hux's quarters, which were much like Moira's in size and style.

"Call it deductive reasoning. Your real name may not have been included in your profile, but the one that was might as well have been." Hux took a brief sip of his drink before continuing. "Maratelle Jadis. You could not have picked a more obvious name. I know of only one Maratelle in this galaxy, and she happens to be dead…and our mother." He shrugged. "It could have just been brotherly intuition, perhaps?" He smirked at her, though it wasn't out of spite.

Moira hummed, nodding and swirling her wine with circular motions of her wrist. "Sounds logical. You're smart; almost as smart as me." His brow arched up.

"Oh, almost? I'd say that's an accomplishment." Moira snorted.

"Don't flatter yourself. It's not very becoming of you," she said in a chastising tone. She raised her glass to her lips and took a sip.

The general did not hold back when it came to amenities, including the wine. Its strength would have made her go weak at the knees if she had been standing, and she could already feel it making her nerve endings go numb. She'd best be careful with this, knowing first-hand what effects wine, or any kind of alcohol for that matter, could have on one's judgement and awareness.

 _Just enjoy it_ , part of her thought. _He's not going to try to pull anything from you; you can trust him._ She took another small sip, savoring the softness of it on her tongue and the distinct fruit, earthy, and floral derived notes.

"You were always one to lecture me, weren't you?" Hux asked, his tone reminiscent and a bit wistful. Moira huffed, rolling her eyes.

"Someone had to make sure you didn't sound like a moof-milker from some Outer Rim dirtball around high-ranking officers." The general snorted, shaking his head.

"Now who's being the narcissist? It's not very becoming of you." Moira shrugged her shoulders before taking a longer swig.

"You'll come to find that I no longer care what others think of me, if you haven't already. It's actually quite liberating." General Hux leaned in ever so slightly.

"Really now?" he asked, curious. He wanted her to elaborate, she could tell.

Moira took the time to cross her legs, which proved to be a bit difficult due to the short and slim black lace dress that she wore. Its long sleeves hid the tattoo on her wrist. She still abstained from wearing the longer dresses for her own purposes.

She did not take too much time in answering him though. _No harm in hiding anything, right?_

"Oh, yes! I lost my dignity alongside my innocence years ago. Once you no longer respect yourself, no one else's opinion matters. Besides, no longer having to play niceties with bureaucrats and the like is such a relief. Even when I was with the Black Sun, I had to kiss ass. You'd be surprised how far a smile and a compliment can get you." Her brother's eyes narrowed slightly, and his lip curled.

"I do know, actually. How else do you think I got here?" he asked quietly, though it sounded more like a rhetorical question.

"There were those who believed me to be weak-minded and willed; I am certain that you recall that," he continued, sounding bitter. "They never thought that I would be able to step out of Father's shadow, to live up to the family name. There was no place among the ranks for a b-." He paused mid-rant, catching himself. "A boy with no potential," he finished slowly, as if he had chosen his words carefully.

The sour expression appeared on his face again and he abruptly stood up, heading toward a nearby table. Moira remained seated and watched him with interest as he activated a map reader that projected a star map. It's outline (as well as the general's) looked blurry at the edges, and Moira blinked a couple of times, bringing the image back into focus along with Hux's voice, which was filled with both passion and deliberation. He continued to stare at the map as he spoke.

"Yet I showed them all. I learned how to play the game, and I won it all. I earned my title without Father's influence, but most importantly, I earned respect. I created a name for myself, and everyone shall know and remember it long after the First Order conquers the galaxy." He turned around to face Moira, who could now see a manic gleam in his eyes that was either from the wine or pure zeal.

For a horrible moment, Moira did not see her brother, but instead, her father. This was a familiar sight to her, one that she had tried to forget. As a child, she had been usually present for Commandant Hux's fanatical ravings and lectures about Imperial supremacy and how the Empire would rise again to reclaim its domination of the galaxy. He would often get the same look in his eyes that General Hux now had in his- an intoxicated one, and it wasn't from any kind of alcohol.

However, that moment quickly passed when she quickly took another drink to hide her surprise and growing unease; it helped chase some of those negative feelings away. Upon swallowing, she stared Hux down as best as she could.

"And what about me?" she asked in an innocent yet curious tone. "Where will I be when that happens?" _If that happens_. His face softened ever so slightly, and the mad light in his eyes faded a bit.

"Come," he ordered, beckoning her over. She stood somewhat unsteadily, feeling momentarily dizzy.

She went to stand next to him, staring at the hologram of what she recognized to be the known galaxy as he began to speak.

"The galaxy is in a depressive state, Moira. The loathsome New Republic is useless and weak. It is being run by a disgraceful and pathetic excuse of a Senate that is corrupt to the core," he said sullenly, glaring at the map.

"It has brought nothing but chaos to the galaxy that had been present before the formation of the Galactic Empire. The Empire had established galactic stability, and the Republic is a threat to that very stability." He paused and turned his head slightly to the left, looking at Moira out of the corner of his eye. "You know that I am right, do not deny it," he said emphatically. Moira did not respond immediately, still staring at the countless stars and planets until their images blurred.

She couldn't truly deny it; Hux was right to an extent. She was unable to argue with the fact that for at least a few years, the Empire had done some good for the galaxy. She hated to admit that she even admired the efficiency of the Imperial military, though their methods had been debatable. When compared to the current army of the Republic, it had been much stronger and larger.

She had also witnessed firsthand how deep the corruption of the Senate ran, and it still did not sit well with her after all these years. It had been one of the few reasons why she refused to directly offer her services to the Republic- Leia was the only exception.

Now, after this most recent revelation about her past and the secrets the Republic (and Leia) most likely hid, Moira felt even more derision towards the government.

"These allegedly benevolent politicians," Hux continued rather eagerly upon sensing her hesitation, "they're no better than the rest of society, if not worse. They are currently divided, split into factions because of their own interests and personal agendas. This way, nothing is ever solved. They are also spineless yet treacherous; they can easily be manipulated into betraying their own faction if the result goes to serve said agendas…" Moira grit her teeth and tightened her grip on her glass as he droned on. It was as if her brother knew exactly what to say in order to rip open old scars.

"I personally know how inefficient and crooked the Republic is, Armitage*," she interrupted hotly through clenched teeth, "but what does this have to do with me? Why are you telling me this?" She couldn't lose her composure, but that was becoming increasingly difficult the more he talked. He drew closer to her, and with a gloved finger, gently raised her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. It was an affectionate gesture, but by no means intimate.

"I want you to know what will change when the First Order finally comes into power. There will no longer be chaos, only order. The galaxy will be safe and secure again. Entire systems will no longer have to suffer as they currently are while the Senate turns a blind eye." He dropped his hand and turned back to the desk, where he adjusted the star map until a certain section of the galaxy was focused on.

"The Unknown Regions consist of these type of systems, devastated by civil wars and countless other tragedies, but left in isolation because no one in the Republic cares enough to even look." He rotated the map, giving Moira a closer view of planets she had never seen or heard of before.

"The First Order, however, is here," he continued. "We have been the savior for many of these planets, ending wars, slavery, and starvation. There is still much more work to do out here, but I guarantee that it will not be forgotten when the Order emerges from hiding. We hope to continue this movement across the rest of the galaxy as well. The Supreme Leader has been explicit about this."

Moira was actually listening to him now, drinking in every word. He was right about the suffering and injustices that went on around the galaxy- she had seen them for herself. Children starved in the streets while the wealthy hosted extravagant parties above. She had witnessed discrimination among different species. And then there was the corruption in the Senate.

Moira had never witnessed slavery before; the Republic, in one of their redeeming moments, had outlawed it, but she was still aware of how terrible it was. To think that it still occurred out here and nothing was being done about it made her blood boil. The First Order was supposedly fixing that among other issues. They were restoring order to the Unknown Regions and wanted to do the same for the rest of the galaxy. What was so wrong about that? Well, there was one thing.

"Tell me, how is the First Order any different than the Senate when it comes to treachery and corruption?" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn his head toward her. She could feel his confusion.

"What are you talking about?" he asked slowly. Moira smiled into her glass as she raised it to her lips. It was time to play her card.

Turning her back on him, she began to pace away from the desk. "Senator Carise Sindian of Arkanis, a member of the Centrist faction and a secret agent of yours, if I am correct. I remember the day she stopped by Ord Mantell for a 'diplomatic mission.'" The general was conspicuously quiet, and it spurred her on.

"Lovely woman, by the way," she continued before turning back around to look at him. "Childhood friend of yours?"

"It does not matter how Lady Sindian came to be associated with the First Order, only that she did her duty," Hux said quite sharply.

" _Lady_ Sindian?" she asked, arching her brow. "You two must be close then." She paused in consideration, then, "Did you sleep with her?" It was a rather blunt question, but to Moira, it was a perfectly rational and integral one.

"I beg your pardon?" the general asked after a second or two of stunned silence, his voice dangerously low.

"You know what I am talking about, the question isn't _that_ difficult to understand," Moira responded, completely serious. "Did the two of you have sex?" His face was growing red, but she couldn't tell if it was from anger or chagrin.

"You are being awfully prying, Moira," he grated out. "I would advise you to be more subtle." Moira shook her head, frowning slightly.

"I'm not being indiscreet," she said defensively. "It only seems reasonable that that's one of the ways you convinced her to work for you. Anthropologically speaking, people have sex outside of marriage for many reasons, including for recreation and exchange for…benefits." She smirked. "You certainly reaped the benefits, didn't you?" She could see the vein in his forehead pulsing, but she still kept going.

"I can't say that I blame you though. In fact, I'm proud; I suppose I'm not the only one who has literally charmed the pants off-"

"As I _said,"_ Hux interrupted snappishly, "she did her duty in serving the First Order; it is irrelevant-"

"Oh, I did not deny that she did her 'duty,'" Moira cut in assertively. "Not long after she left, I discovered that the Black Sun had entered not just a temporary alliance with the Amaxine warriors and Rinnrivin Di's Nikto cartel, but also the Centrists' conspiracy to create the First Order."

The contract had been rather simple. The warriors would finance and fight alongside the cartel, which would then participate in subsequent raids and gambling and smuggling operations. The revenue generated from these operations were channeled to the Black Sun, who would funnel it to the First Order's fleet. In turn, they would receive funding from the First Order to continue their own operations.

"However," she added coolly, "the contract had failed to mention that all three organizations would be terminated once their usefulness came to an end. It was certainly a convenient way to keep the First Order's involvement a secret, though a bit on the extreme side, don't you think?" Her accusation had its effect as Hux became visibly riled.

"The Black Sun brought its destruction down upon itself, Moira. If you wish to point fingers, you are wasting your time. Did your precious syndicate really think it could terminate its end of the contract and emerge unscathed?" He sneered at her, and she felt her face heat with anger and shame.

"We got nervous. It couldn't have been a coincidence that both the cartel and warriors were successively fragmented -." The general scoffed.

"So you naturally assumed that we had a part in it? Understandable but incorrect. The First Order had no involvement in the destruction of either organization; the Republic saw to that." He paused, turning back to face the star map, then said: "You are right about it having been a convenience though; our connection to the Centrists had remained clandestine."

At this point, Moira was no longer listening to him, having slowly eased herself down into an armchair as her brother's words replayed in her head. They were damning.

Even though she had eventually learned that the Republic had stopped both criminal organizations (Leia herself had been involved), she had always suspected that the First Order had arranged most of it. That suspicion had only grown after the Black Sun was destroyed.

Now, hearing Hux confirm that the First Order had not had anything to do with the destruction of the cartel and warriors was like being condemned.

She knew that she should not be believing anything that was coming out of his mouth, but she was unable to stop the sinister whispering of self-doubts.

 _It's all my fault_ , she thought _. I_ did _kill them all._

The guilt threatened to choke her as images, memories, of the bodies of her fallen brethren appeared in her mind. Most hadn't even had a chance to fight back, being swiftly gunned down by stormtroopers. The sounds were still the worst part, and she had been forced to listen to them all as she had lain still on the ground for what had felt like hours. She could still hear the screams and the pleas for mercy that were abruptly ended by the even louder sound of a blaster.

She was too busy staring at the ground, lost in her nightmares, to notice the general's approach until he was standing right in front of her. He knelt down so he was at her eye level.

"But now, it is almost time for us to finally emerge from hiding," he said softly. "The Senate will soon pay for its lack of conscience, and the galaxy will be ours for the taking. After the Resistance is crushed, no one else shall dare oppose us." He then reached out to place a hand on her left arm, and she was too numb to resist.

"Hear me when I say _us_ , Moira," he said in an entreating tone. "We were inseparable back then, weren't we? We always worked best together. You were always there to make sure I did not lose my reputation, and-"

"You were there to protect me," Moira said quietly. "I did…miss you, you know," she finally admitted, finally looking up at him. It was true. She had missed her older brother; he was one who she had (literally) looked up to and sought out for comfort after a heated argument with their father had turned violent.

She had tried to forget about him after she had begun her new life with the Black Sun. In fact, she had been advised to forget about her past—none of it mattered once one joined the Black Sun. Once one joined the Black Sun, they became a Nobody, only a shadow. However, Moira had been unable to let go of the past, and that was why she had decided to join the Black Sun in the first place. That was why everyone, almost including herself, was eventually killed.

To deflect the guilt, she had blamed her brother. She tried to hate him. Not only did that fail, but it also made her want to see him again, if only to exact revenge. Deep down, that was another reason why she had decided to accept the mission; the prospect of a long-awaited reunion was too tempting. Reality, though, rarely met expectations; all desires to exact vengeance had disappeared as soon as Moira laid eyes on Hux for the first time in sixteen years.

To combat that realization, she had thrown insult after insult and accusation after accusation at him, hoping that she could reassert her hatred toward him, especially if any of the accusations were proven to be true. She had spent years constructing a wall of ice around her heart that only a few people had managed to chisel through, and she wasn't about to let it weaken due to sentimental nostalgia.

But, here she was, losing the battle. She was weak.

"And I you," Armitage said. "That is why you must stay here. We have been apart for too long, sister. Fate has granted us an opportunity to rebuild not only the galaxy, but also our relationship. You belong here with the First Order, with me." His hand moved down to her hand, which he flipped to expose the stitching there. He frowned as he looked at it. Moira felt her face flush. He knew.

"Never again," she heard him mutter under his breath before looking back at her. "Never again will you be made to suffer. Never again will you be used as a pawn in the Republic's game. You shall be a key player in ours, though, if that is what you desire."

Moira bit her lip. What did she desire?

As a thief and smuggler, she had not the time to want many things, even when she was with the Black Sun. She was satisfied with simply a blaster or two at her hip, a working ship, credits in a briefcase, and few friends. She had still been a Nobody.

Power then? She hadn't entertained the thoughts of having power for some time. She did know for a fact what too much of it could do to someone. She did have the power to kill, and she had once utilized it to gain something that she had craved—it still haunted her.

Long ago, she had desired vengeance, and part of her still did for the destruction of the Black Sun. The First Order needed to pay, but now, she realized, the Republic hadn't really done anything. They dismissed the massacre as nothing more than "an unfortunate occurrence and a radical movement." In fact, they probably thought of it as a favor from the First Order; the whole situation had been convenient for both sides. They. Did. Nothing.

Maybe that was what she desired now: justice and order, but mostly justice. The Republic did not treat everyone as fairly as it made itself out to be doing. It needed to be changed. If she decided to ally herself with the First Order, she would probably be given the chance to bring about said justice and order. That would be the only kind of power that she would accept.

She imagined sharing that power with General Hux, her brother. He was right, again; they always had worked best together. She did not doubt that they would be a force to reckon with. No longer would she have to answer to anyone but herself, no longer would she be a helpless pawn. She would finally be the one on top, to make things the way she wanted them to be.

Encouraged by her silence, Hux continued. "War is inevitable, Moira, and there will obviously be two sides to it. I want you to be on the winning side, wouldn't you want to be? When the First Order finally frees the galaxy from its shackles, don't you want to be the one wielding the key?" He rose, pulling Moira to her feet, and led her back over to the map.

"Just think of it, of what we could do…together," he said confidently after a brief pause. "I know how you felt about the Empire, but I can assure you that we are superior to it in many ways. I can prove it to you, if you'll allow me."

That was what was needed to snap Moira back to reality. The Empire.

It was the Empire that had promised order and peace to the galaxy. Neither had lasted long.

The desire for order had turned into lust for power, and to achieve that power, the Empire had quickly become oppressive and tyrannical. The Republic was not like that. Moira was not like that.

How would the First Order prove to be 'superior' to the Empire? Moira imagined only through more violence and destruction. The destruction of her home and family on Ord Mantell was proof enough.

"And what if I don't?" Moira probed with narrowed eyes. "What if I don't agree to join you?" He turned to face her with a solemn gaze.

"I really do hope that that is not your decision, Moira. If you haven't realized by now, I am not letting you go, not when I have finally found you. Besides, we can't have you go running back to your Resistance friends and spoil our little secrets, can we? I can only tell you that your life here will quickly become tedious and difficult, as I may eventually have to treat you like a prisoner." He narrowed his eyes too.

"I do not wish to do that," he added, "but as I told you earlier, there will be war, and in the end, everyone must choose a side. Pray that you do not choose the wrong one, sister," he warned, leaning in closer to her, "or that may be the last decision you will ever make."

* * *

Moira stormed (more like stumbled) back into her apartment, ignoring the lack of guards standing outside.

" _Doe dopa-maskey, blinking, karking nerfherder_ *," she slurred as she took off her shoes and threw them across the room. Not looking to see where they landed, she headed towards the couch, fumbling with the zipper on her dress while muttering more expletives under her breath.

Finally giving up on the dress, she collapsed onto the couch face first with a groan of frustration. Her head was pounding; she couldn't think clearly.

_Kriff, how much wine did I really have? What was even in it?_

Moira rarely ever became drunk, as it presented a potential safety hazard to her occupation, but it definitely took more than a few sips of wine to put her in this state.

 _He probably did it on purpose; he thought that he could easily influence you to join him_ , she thought, thinking of Hux. Her curses that had been directed towards the general felt even more justified.

 _No, it's your own damn fault_ , another voice whispered. _You drank too much and were too stupid to realize it!_ The two warring voices added more to Moira's headache.

" _Uhl wagyx!"_ she swore into the leather.

"You speak Corellian. Impressive." Moira's heart stopped, and slowly, she looked up.

Kylo Ren was leaning back against the wall across from her. Gasping, Moira retreated up onto her knees, but he wasn't looking at her, as far as she could tell. Instead, he was looking down at the shoe he held in his hands, Moira's shoe to be exact. Had she actually thrown one at him? Had she hit him?

Feeling her body beginning to tremble and her heart pounding in her chest, Moira realized that she should do something. He wasn't paying her any attention; she could easily run away. But to where? That hadn't exactly worked out the first time, and she hardly doubted he would let her escape his presence a second time. Was that why he was here, to punish her? If so, why was he attempting to make small talk with her? Even more curious, he understood Corellian?

Her eyes darted towards the door that led to her bedroom, and she wondered if she could at least make it there and lock the door behind her. He wouldn't come after her then, would he?

Moira swallowed hard, her throat now dry. "I-I…had to learn it when I joined the Black Sun. It's…typically used as a code to communicate with others in the criminal underworld…you speak Corellian too, then?" she asked hesitantly. Maybe if she kept him talking, she could gradually make her way towards the bedroom.

"Not fluently," he admitted, "but I understand enough to know curses when I hear them." He still refused to look up at her, turning the shoe over and over again in his hands, but she gathered his meaning. If she thought that her face was already flushed, she was wrong.

"I wasn't talking about _you_ ," she responded immediately, fearing the worst. She watched him shake his head.

"I know. Being around Hux can bring out the worst thoughts in people." His words, although spoken casually, sent chills down Moira's spine.

"How did you know that I was with…" she trailed off, the realization slowly dawning on her. He had been in her head again, and she hadn't realized it. It had to have been the alcohol, right?

"As I have said before," Ren said, looking up in her direction at last, "you are very loud. You cannot control the projection of your thoughts and emotions. It is very annoying."

Before she could say anything else, he suddenly pushed off the wall, dropping the shoe, and began to walk slowly, like a predator, in her direction.

With a squeak, Moira instinctively backed away from his gradual approach until she was close to falling off the couch. She found herself frozen in place with terror as he stood over her. With wide eyes, she watched him kneel down before her and raise his arm.

She flinched as soon as she felt the familiar pressure on the inside of her skull. Her fingers clenched around the armrest as her entire body stiffened. The sensation wasn't as painful as it had been before, but it was still uncomfortable.

"How did you do it?" he murmured, more to himself than to Moira. _Do what?_ She was unable to voice this question, however, due to the way her teeth were currently clenched.

She could feel him there, a dark shadow seeping through every crevice of her mind, unyielding and unstoppable. What was he doing? What was he looking for?

"The dark side," he said softly, "it was calling to you." _The dark side?_ Moira suddenly saw a flash of something, an image of a wall before her…a familiar wall. She had no time to recall what it was though, for he spoke again.

"You ran away. You saw something that you shouldn't have seen." More images flashed before her—more memories. She saw the back of Kylo Ren's helmet, obscuring whatever he was facing-.

"What did you see?" he asked, his voice becoming harsher, almost a growl. The pressure increased slightly, and Moira gasped. Tears sprang into her eyes. His search had intensified. What was he looking for?

"I…saw…nothing," she finally managed to grind out through her teeth. His fingers only hovered closer.

"You certainly felt something," he argued. "You felt the darkness. You were frightened, yet…fascinated, yes. You were curious." Moira felt both confusion and fear rush through her. She remembered that feeling; she could feel it now.

"Get out," she spat, and to her surprise, he suddenly pulled away. Moira slumped backward, panting. Her arms trembled from how stiff she had been. Kylo, on the other hand, rose to his full height and backed away from her. His fists were clenched.

"This is all too easy," he muttered, shaking his head. "Your mind as open as I suspected. You lack control." Moira stared at him through half-lidded eyes.

"And what do you expect me to do about that?" she asked groggily, raising a hand to her head.

"Keep me out next time," he said seriously. "Fight it." Moira dropped her hand in shock and stared at him in utter bewilderment.

" _What?"_ she exclaimed. _"How?"_ Kylo merely shrugged.

"You must erect another shield around your mind, one that prevents anything from coming in or out," he said, as if it were obvious. It wasn't.

"Again, I ask _how_."

"Let the Force guide you," he said simply before stepping toward her. "You must feel it."

"Wait!" Moira gasped, plastering herself against the couch. "What are you doing?"

"Training you," he answered indifferently as he raised his arm again.

* * *

Moira did not remember how or when she ended up on the floor, curled into herself at Kylo's feet and reduced to a quivering, whimpering mess. She must have begged for him to stop at some point, because the pain had eventually stopped. Or had he simply become bored?

"Disappointing," she thought she heard him mutter as she lay there before him. She kept her eyes screwed shut, just like they had been when it had felt like her skull was being smashed in. "You are not even trying." _Not even trying?_ Any other time, Moira would have responded with some smart comment, but she felt too weak.

She had tried to fight him by simply not thinking about anything at all. Any memory that he managed to pull to the surface she tried to yank back, but it only made the pain worse. How could she possibly resist him?

And Kylo? He was not helping at all. All he was doing was taunting her with things that he saw. They were not low blows, she noticed. He wasn't pulling anything too private from the depths of her mind. At least, that was what she hoped, for she had no idea what he was really looking for, if he was looking for anything at all. He did not know everything—yet.

He still wasn't moving; she could still feel him standing inches away from her head. She imagined him now reaching for his saber, and she waited for the inevitable.

"That is enough for now." Moira's eyes snapped open to see his feet turning away from her, leaving her behind.

 _For now?_ He wasn't going to kill her? That's why he was here, wasn't it? This was only torture before the killing blow, right?

_What is he waiting for?_

"If you want to kill me, just get it over with," she whispered, and she heard him pause. With aching limbs, she slowly pushed herself to her knees. Her head spun, but she could still make out the dark figure now facing her through her blurry vision. There was a slight ringing in her ears, too.

"Decapitation would be the best method," she continued, closing her eyes. "It's quick and painless. Shouldn't be too messy either if I'm right about the cauterizing effect."

"If you like slow, painful deaths, however," she added, now opening her eyes and staring straight ahead, "I recommend strangulation. It typically requires a lot of intimacy with the victim, but you don't even need to touch me in order to do it, right?" Her vision was beginning to clear, and she could see him approaching her almost cautiously. She cocked her head at him.

"Do you know how it feels to be nearly strangled to death?" she asked calmly and quietly. "I do. First, there's the pressure in your throat. Then, you begin to taste something sour in your mouth—maybe it's your own blood. Next, a fire appears in the middle of your chest. It starts to grow until it fills your lungs, throat, and all the way behind your eyes. Finally, you start to feel cold…" She trailed off as she drew in a harsh breath.

She could feel that pressure around her neck as if she were back before the Supreme Leader's throne. She remembered reaching for her throat in a desperate attempt to pry the invisible hands from her neck. She could hear the ringing in her ears as the grip quickly tightened.

Something suddenly appeared before her slowly darkening vision, and large dark gloved hands grasped the smaller pale ones that were wrapped around her throat and wrenched them away.

Moira simply knelt there, her body instinctively taking in air. She did not feel part of it, though, staring at her hands as if they weren't hers. "These…aren't mine," she murmured. "Nothing's mine anymore. Nothing." She watched the hands begin to shake violently in Kylo's, followed by the rest of her body. There was something wet on her cheeks, but she did not know what it was.

She was aware of being lifted and moved to the couch, but she could not feel a thing. She was still shaking her head as she lay back on the soft material.

"They aren't mine. The memories, they aren't mine," she rambled. "And I shouldn't have to keep them; they aren't mine." She peered at Kylo, who was kneeling beside her, listening intently. "Please don't make me sleep again. That's when the monsters come back, the monsters who gave me those memories."

He was silent for a few seconds, then, "There are monsters everywhere, Moira." His tone was indecipherable, but he said her name for the second time. Moira blinked once, and with a slight frown, rolled towards him.

"What about you?" she whispered. "Are you a monster?" She watched his body go completely still, and the silence that followed seemed to stretch for an eternity until he abruptly turned and strode out of the room, leaving Moira alone.

* * *

*Doe dopa-maskey- Huttese for "the two-faced…"

Uhl wagyx- Corellian for "the ass"

**A/N:** **Hey everyone, no long time no see, huh? FINALLY have I been able to sit down and crank this one out! I will admit that I have been quite negligent to this story, for I have recently starting working on another one from another fandom. I have recently gotten into The Walking Dead TV show, and ever since the Season 7 premiere, I have been plotting and thinking about a new story, completely leaving this one behind for longer than I had expected or planned to! However, the advent of Rogue One (it comes out tomorrow everyone!) has inspired (and reminded) me to revisit this fic and get 'er done! I hope that you enjoyed this one- I enjoyed writing it! Please feel free to review!**

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I am kind of new to this world of fanfiction. I have read tons of other works, but I've never had the courage to write my own until now.  
> I also have an account on Fanfiction.net and a tumblr account: fngrl-2187, so feel free to check it out. I usually blog about my story (updates, fanart, which is usually photo shopped stuff).  
> I hope that you liked this first chapter and decide to keep on reading! You are in for a wild ride!


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